Tempting the Dragon
by Eternal Contradiction
Summary: Dragon's Bait by Vivian Vande Velde: Alys's breath was coming quickly, matching the pounding of her heart and the muted slap of her running feet on the mossy, damp earth of the forest floor. She ran as though the hounds of hell were on her tail. ch.7
1. Chapter 1

_**Tempting a Dragon**_

_Chapter 1: Fire or Rain  
_

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x.o.x.o.x

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As she moved the trees gave her surroundings a sense of familiarity, as though she was passing through the same section of forest in eternal circles. If her eyes weren't adept at finding the subtle differences in the landscape of greens and browns, Alys knew that she would have thought she was lost minutes ago. Her breath was coming quickly, matching the pounding of her heart and the muted slap of her running feet on the mossy, damp earth of the forest floor. She ran as though the hounds of hell were on her tail. Her footing was sure and swift, and as silent as a native creature of the forest. The shadows of the trees lengthened as the sun started to set until the woods became a deep green, and lent the illusion of night-time. Alys dodged a fallen log, crashing through the brush as it opened into a clearing. Here, the sun was still shining, bright and blinding as it fell from the sky and opened the world to unearthly possibilities. 

As she emerged from the forest, Alys slowed down to a walk. She shook out her dress and patted down her hair in a search for stray twigs. Once she was sure her appearance was presentable and she was no longer panting like a race-horse, she took a dainty step into the clearing with a smile planted on her face. It wouldn't do to burst out of the forest and alarm the tenants of the surrounding town. Her long dress fell around her ankles, keeping her bare feet from sight. They stung now that she was no longer running. She started walking along the dusty road into town, knowing that it was now dangerous for her to wander freely. She cut in through the property of one of her neighbours, already having permission to take a shortcut through his property to arrive home. She paused when she found him out cultivating his field, trying to prepare some of the fledgling plant buds for the impending storm he insisted was in the air.

"Good evening, Smith. How is your family?" Alys inclined her head to the farmer as he straightened, bracing a hand on his back and wiping sweat from his brow. She paused, making sure her smile was friendly as she spoke, knowing that her attitude was the only thing which separated her from being the enemy.

"Fine, Miss Alys." He shifted awkwardly as though he had something further to say, but wasn't sure how to say it.

"Is there something you wanted to ask me?" She asked gently, used to the townsfolk not being sure how to treat her. She was a stranger here to these people who had grown up knowing their neighbours just as well as they knew themselves. She could understand that, growing up the same way herself.

"We was thinking of sending the children to stay with my wife's sister while the big ta-do was goin' on at the castle. I'm sure his lordship would appreciate them out from under foot."

"He may," Alys conceded with a slight frown. "Do you want them to leave?"

"Remember last Christmas when my oldest lad got into the rum and caught the tree on fire?"

Alys laughed slightly. "I do, indeed. But I don't think it'll be an issue this time."

Smith looked doubtful.

"I'm heading up to the castle now. I can check for you."

"No. No. Don't concern yerself." Though Smith expressed his reluctance for her help, Alys knew he was asking for her speak with the lord of the borough. For one, he wasn't very subtle with the request, and for another she had offered to be a liaison between the castle and the commoners. Thanks to her time living with Selendrile, Alys was less than intimidated by the idea of a lord in a castle.

"It's no trouble," she promised with a quick grin. She inclined her head again and cut through the grassy knoll on her way to the castle. The sky was turning pinks and purples as the sun descended, and Alys could feel the twilight magic on the air. Her body hummed with the recognition of Selendrile coming into his powers, and her stepped quickened. The ground inclined as she approached the castle situated picturesquely atop a hill, looking like one of the fairytale castles from her childhood stories. The only thing missing was a moat, and she knew that one was in the plans. Her cheeks were slightly pinkened from her excursion and when she opened the side door to the castle in order to slip in unnoticed, she couldn't help but turn back and look over the small town with the background of trees. Her eye immediately caught the tallest tree in the forest and she turned away with a secret smile.

The stone floor was chilling beneath her feet, and the bare soles slapped against the tiles so she had to change the way her foot fell in order to keep her steps quiet. She reached for her shoes on the ledge she had hidden them on, sliding the silk over her dirty and sore feet. She took another moment to brush off her gown, checking to make sure there wasn't a stray blade of grass or streak of dirt on the delicate cloth. She couldn't have the majordomo cast his ever critical eye over her and sneer as though she were a fly which deserved to be swatted. Alys knew she was of common origins; she didn't need to be reminded every time she made an appearance in the supper hall.

"Good evening Wolsey," Alys greeted, entering the large dining room. The head butler straightened from where he was flirting with one of the serving girls, pulling on his ordinate vest and raising his head as he looked down at her over his long reed-thin nose. Alys smiled, curling her lip up in derision and secretly reveling at her fortune. It wasn't often she was able to cast aspersions on his character. "If you can take a moment away from 'inspecting the household', I'd like you to send Mrs. Smith to my chambers with a pitcher of cold water."

"Mrs. Smith? If you wish for your supper to be on time, then the cook should be cooking, should she not?"

"Mrs. Smith, Wolsey. If you're worried about supper, take over." Alys turned her back with a smile of smile of self-pleasure. Sometimes, she liked having people to order about, especially if they were ego-centric snobs who believed themselves better than their employers.

"Yes my lady."

Alys hurried up the stairs, holding her skirts at a proper angle so she wasn't showing too much skin, but also so she didn't run the risk of tripping. Being a member of the aristocracy was a difficult strain on her movements and sense of freedom. It seemed to her as though there was a rule for everything, particularly for women. She entered her rooms, closing the door behind her with a sense of relief. She still was not used to the idea of living in a huge castle with so many people underfoot, and though she knew she was supposed to ignore their presence as though they were invisible, she found she couldn't. Being friendly to the servants gave her the reputation of being nice, but sometimes she would far rather be feared like her brother.

There was a tentative knock on the door. "Come in!" Alys called, sitting in a well-padded chair and staring out the window as the sun finished setting with a flourish of hues. Alys turned and accepted the poured glass of water as the cook wordlessly handed Alys the delicate cup. She drank deeply, swallowing quickly in an attempt to hide the underlying metallic bite to the liquid. "Thank you. Mrs. Smith, do you know why I called you in here?"

"I apologize, ma'am. I know Wolsey caught me givin' away bread from yer table, but there is a good explanation and he said he wouldn't mention it if I paid fer it myself."

"Oh?" Alys asked with a raised brow.

"It was an accident, ma'lady. I wasn't thinking proper and left the dough out with no covering. I know his lordship sets store by a clean kitchen, so when I caught the cat nibbling at it I thought it was a waste to throw out good food." Mrs. Smith's words were rushed with her nervousness, and Alys moderated her wish. She didn't enjoy being feared by those who relied on her benediction.

"Stop," Alys said, holding up her hand to pause the cook's words. "I didn't ask you here because of that, and I can assure you that the bread will not be deducted from your pay. I've been speaking with your husband."

"Oh?" the woman asked, finally wisely closing her mouth. Alys mentally sighed, knowing that she would now be subjected to a conversation with one-word sentences as the cook attempted to control the damage her talking had already done.

"He has informed me that you plan to send your children away during the upcoming festivities," Alys said. "His lordship realizes that an inordinate amount of work needs to be done on the grounds, and is offering a halfpenny to the children who are willing to help. I suggest you take this into consideration before making a decision either way." Alys folded her hands across her lap. "Now, you and I need to parley about the kitchen duties. You will be needing additional help, will you not?"

"Yes, Lady Alys."

Alys inclined her head. "I'll leave the decisions in your capable hands. I hear your eldest daughter has gotten to be quite the little chef." The hint was subtle, but she was learning the art of speaking to those under her command, just as they knew how to speak to her. Growing up as a tinsmith's daughter, Alys had never thought she'd become the lady of a castle with people like herself – or at least who she used to be – under her command, not in her wildest dreams. Ok. Maybe her WILDEST dreams. "I'm sure supper will be excellent tonight. I hope I haven't taken you attention away from it for too long."

"It doesn't matter, ma'am," Mrs. Smith murmured as she curtseyed and took her leave. "Supper tonight is a stew."

"Stew?" Alys said to herself as the cook exited the room. She grinned mischievously, thinking of how much Selendrile hated stew. "Excellent." Alys stood, noting from the periphery of her vision that the sun had set. She poured the cool water into a basin, quickly washing herself before changing for supper. When she emerged from her room a few minutes later, she was refreshed and practically bouncing with her happiness and contentment of life. The light material from her fresh dress swished around her shoe-bound ankles as she hurried down the stairs. In the rooms below her, she could hear the murmur of voices.

Alys entered the dinning room, circling around to the side of the table. "Good evening, Selendrile," she greeted in a chipper voice as he rose from his place at the foot of the table and politely held out her chair for her. This part of their evening was for show, where they acted like civilized humans supping together. Selendrile put up with 'the horrid food' as he put it, and Alys put up with the act of gentility. "Thank you," she said, taking her seat.

"How was your day?" He asked conversationally, taking a piece of bread and breaking it in half. He sniffed experimentally, and Alys wondered if Wolsey had forced the cook to feed them the cat-snacked loaves. She wouldn't doubt it.

"It's just bread," she informed him as he offered her a piece slathered in butter as she liked it, honestly hoping that was the case. Though Alys had eaten things far more vile than dough a cat had gotten into, she had an extreme 'don't ask, don't tell' policy when it came to food. She'd rather just not know. Alys accepted the bread from him, sure she would never get used to these rules and would forever be identified as a parvenu by their majordomo. She wasn't sure she really cared, especially once she learned what the word meant from Selendrile.

"I smell stew." Selendrile's nose wrinkled as he sniffed, eyes narrowing apprehensively.

Alys smiled, taking a dainty bite of her bread. "I know how much you love it."

"Aren't fish in season? Or deer?" Selendrile asked, almost petulantly.

"I'm sure it's venison stew," Alys responded, mocking him slightly. "The cook spent the day creating strawberry preserves while the berries are fresh. I asked her to prepare something simple this evening."

"You requested stew, didn't you?" Selendrile inquired suspiciously.

Alys just smiled. "Consider it only one course you have to sit through instead of three or four." They both fell into silence as the serving girl placed the dishes before them. "I arranged for some of the children to clean the castle before the guests arrive. You're paying them, by the way."

Selendrile shrugged. "I'm more concerned by you going back into the forest."

Alys stilled, her spoon hovering over the over-cooked mush in her bowl. "How could you tell?"

"Your right shoulder if stiff from the exertion. And I can smell the evergreens in your hair."

"Can you blame me?" Alys asked defensively, her spine straightening and shoulders squaring for confrontation. She could feel the twinge in the right one, and hated the fact he was right.

"No," Selendrile said softly. "I feel confined here, too."

"Then why-" Alys started, vocalizing the old argument.

"Because we're free, too. The room has ears," he reminded her, winning the discussion for now. "How was it?"

"Unrestrained." Her voice held a current of bitterness before she put it away and reminded herself to be grateful for everything he had given her. It was difficult to do with all the labels circling about. Lord. Lady. Brother. Sister. "It was wonderful, Selendrile. The trees have finally bloomed, and everything is fresh with new life. You can feel it."

Selendrile closed his fey eyes, and Alys could almost see him picturing the scene. She made a mental note to herself not to bring up her discontent again. She could see the effect this life was having on him, as well. At first they had only pretended he was sickly to excuse the day-light hours he spent undisturbed in his chambers, but recently she had begun to notice the pale pallor to his normally golden skin, and the lack of luster in his hair.

"If you can get out tomorrow, you can come with me. We can meet at the tree."

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I'll be up to it."

"Selendrile," Alys said with concern, reaching over and grabbing his hand. "You'd tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you?"

"I'm fine!" He insisted, taking a bite of his supper with a grimace. Alys knew he was lying to her, but she didn't push.

"I believe Mrs. Smith saved some of those strawberries for dessert," Alys said conversationally to cover the silence which had sprung up between them. Their suppers, despite on occasion being the only time they saw each other in the run of a day, were a mess of hidden context and meaningless filler dialogue. Alys took another bite of her supper, and asked the question which was really bothering her. "Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"What?" Selendrile looked startled.

"The servants are talking about how our guests are really coming so you can marry me off to the son."

"Nonsense." Selendrile's denial was a tad too forced, which made Alys wonder if he was lying altogether. Sometimes she really hated their supper conversations. "You know Lord Duncan is a friend of our uncle's, and the invitation was extended before we arrived here."

"Yes," Alys said quietly. She knew this was the truth as they had brainstormed to think of a polite way to dismiss the promise, only to finally decide it was in their best interest to ensure that their guest really believed Selendrile was the former lord's heir. "You aren't planning an engagement?"

"Alys," he said with a sigh. "You have to consider that you are of marriageable age."

Alys slammed down her spoon and the sound echoed through the room. She knew she had just drawn the attention of every person within listenable range. "Don't tease me about that," she exclaimed with a forced joviality. Her eyes belied her tone by narrowing dangerously at him. "You won't marry me off," she told him, leaning closer so that only he could hear her words. Her voice was a threatening hiss, and she could feel the bitter coil of anger and fear slither through her despite the confidence in her words. "You consider me one of your most valuable possessions."

Alys left the table and went back to her chambers, knowing that this would be another night where neither were able to finish the meal together. She knew the servants thought they didn't get along, and that was partially true, but sometimes they got along far too well. She sighed as the door closed behind her, finally able to take off the persona she had adopted as she had emerged from the forest earlier. It was getting easier for her to drop into the role of Lady with each passing day, and she knew it was just another aspect of her personality which was changing. Alys stared out the window, taking in the twinkling stars in the sky, and wondered if she wanted to identify her unhappiness as loneliness. Her bed was soft and invited, and when she climbed between the cool sheets it was to escape.

.x.x.

The trees shifted, creating a kaleidoscope of greens as the sun shone through the branches and bounced off the emerald floor. Alys sat beneath the tall tree in the forest, her knife imbedded deep within a knot in the wood above her head. The ground was cool, almost damp, and she could feel it through the material of her ragged dress. The wind whistled throughout the trees, and Alys could hear the song of the ages in the breath of the forest. She listened intently, moisture gathering beneath the palm of her hand until her fingers were deeply emerged in a puddle of clear, cool water. A leaf fell into the pool, chiming and rippling. Everything went quiet.

Then Alys could hear the laughter.

Risa burst through the woods, branches parting before her as she ran with a carefree gait. Giggles emerged from her mouth as she turned behind her, smiling at someone hidden within the trees. "There you are," she said once she spotted Alys lounging against the rough bark and soft moss. "I've been searching for you."

"I'm always here," Alys told her. "It's where I belong." She frowned in confusion, making Risa giggle harder.

"Silly. You don't know where you belong yet."

"I do," Alys insisted.

"He's something else," Risa said with a shake of her head, red curls bouncing. Her face turned fierce, and she grabbed Alys's arm. "He's evil."

"Who? Selendrile?" Alys questioned, alarmed.

"Watch out for Selendrile, Alys."

.x.x.x.

Alys awoke with a pounding heart to the echo of thunder on the air. She could feel the electric charge of the rain beating against the shutters covering her window. She threw off the blankets, parting the heavy velvet curtains of her canopy, and almost relishing the feel of the cold stone floor beneath her feet. Grabbing her dressing gown, she rushed out of her room, navigating through the darkened corridors towards the doors to the roof. The torches set strategically through the hallways were out, smoke still streaming from one or two, and she imagined that someone had beat her outside. Once she reached the heavy oak doors, she could feel the splashes of wet rain between her toes. The hinges creaked beneath her fingers as the door parted, the wind carrying it forward so that she lost her grip and it cracked against the side of the castle with a loud noise which seemed to become lost in the storm. Alys stood on the threshold, water beating against her skin, and she felt as though she could breathe again. The rain streamed through her hair, pulling it flat against her body, and making her robe cling to her slight form. She took a step into the darkness outside the door, her feet steady against wet-stone. Wind blew at her, but she was as balanced as a willow tree – swaying but firmly rooted.

Alys breathed in the wet air, the wind and balanced intemperance of the storm deafening. She laughed, throwing her arms out and spinning on the battlements. Her feet splashed through the water like a tiny wave in a tsunami. The skirt of her gown twirled around her legs, soft cloth becoming a soaking vise around her. Alys tripped and stumbled, impatiently pulling her skirt off her wet legs once she caught her balance. With the material in one hand and her knees indecently exposed to the night, Alys turned her face up to the heavens and opened her eyes, watching as the rain fell from a smoky grey sky.

Sighing heavily, Alys allowed her problems to wash away, gathering at her toes and then dripping over the side of the castle wall. Lightening struck, and her small town was illuminated in the flash. She stared out over it long after the light had dissipated and felt an extreme sense of ownership. These were her people, Alys decided, and she was the lady of the manor now, even if she and Selendrile had resorted to trickery in order to come here.

Lightening flashed again, and she caught Selendrile out of the corner of her eye. He was dragon-crouched against one of the castle turrets, his naked body gleaming in the cool rain-water. It ran over his hair in a stream, waterfalling over the side of the building and splashing almost unnoticed on the stone below. In that one flash, she was able to see that he was watching her with his sharp fey eyes, the amethyst dark pools of gleaming possessiveness. Risa's warning sparked in her mind like the lightening, and her inner joy at the first thunder storm of the season flickered out like a small flame in the rain. No longer fueled, Alys felt the cold chill creep down her spine, tingling sharply and causing her body to quake. She turned her back on the rain, walking away from that impenetrable gaze and closing the doors behind her.

x.x

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©RelenaFanel.May25.2007 

Review! Tell me what you think about the first chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

**Tempting the Dragon**

_Chapter 2 _

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A/N: Many of you asked if this is the continuation of _To Lure a Dragon_. It is. What it isn't is a story which picks up immediately after the events of _Lure_. If I was going to write it that way, I would just continue with _Lure. _I will try to write _Tempt_ so that you don't need any prior knowledge of my writing in order to understand, but there are some basic events from _Lure_ which will be important to this plot. I'll try to be a faithful guide to those of you who haven't read it. 

x.x.x

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It had been two days since the rainfall and preparations for the impending visit from Sir Duncan and his family were underway. Alys spent her mornings and afternoons giving instructions to the workers under the guise of them being orders from Selendrile. She ensured that everything was running as smoothly as possible and that each head of staff knew to come to her with their problems instead of Wolsey. It was petty of her, she knew, but she had already caught the glorified butler contradicting one of her express orders despite the fact he was there when she issued it. If it was up to her, she'd fire the man. In Alys's opinion, it would only make her more popular among the servants. In the early evening, she took an hour or so for herself before the sun set. Even Selendrile's disapproval and warnings couldn't stop her from needing to get away.

This was one of those times. Alys sat by the bank of a charming brook, the water giggling over rocks at her feet. She was sitting on a blanket in full view of the castle. Today, there had been an issue with the bedroom arrangements, and so she had to ensure she was approachable to foil any attempts Wolsey might make trying to take over. In her hands was soft white wool pulled into yarn. Deftly, Alys knitted what appeared to be baby booties but what she had really intended to be a pair of socks. She thought about Selendrile and worried about the strange paleness to his skin. She also thought about the visitors they were letting into their, albeit borrowed, home. When they had first heard the news there had been a look in Selendrile's eyes which spoke of recognition of the knight's name, and this too worried Alys. She thought that her dragon companion might be keeping secrets from her.

No. She KNEW Selendrile was keeping secrets from her.

"My lady," one of the servant girls spoke in reverent tones as she approached Alys's position. "The bed curtains in the blue room are moth eaten and we used the spare set in your room last autumn."

"Is there time to make new ones?" Alys asked, staring into the greenish water of the brook. The unhurried water lapping at the ground next to her feet relaxed her. Just weeks ago the spring banks had been swollen with run-off from the forests, the water surging with a terrible force, sweeping up everything in its path. Alys had always appreciated nature, but there was something about this land which opened her eyes to things she had always taken for granted.

"Make new ones," the maid echoed with shock, surprising Alys out of her enchantment with the gurgling water. "No, m'lady. We'd have to send for the material, and it would never arrive before your guests."

"Then take the ones from my bed and put them in the guest room."

The other girl gasped. "Is that decent?"

"I believe it's necessary at this point." Alys turned and gave her a level look. "Don't you agree?"

"But," the servant responded, stuttering her shock. "What about your room?"

"I'll take the damaged ones," Alys responded calmly, staring at the socks she was knitting and realizing they would never fit her, let alone Selendrile. She thought for a moment that the girl was going to argue with her, and she tensed. Alys hated pulling rank, but it was also starting to nettle her when her word was question. God help her, but she was turning into the true nobility the dragon seemed to be molding her for. She was about to dismiss the girl, but then thought of something further. "Order the new material. In a purple, I think," she said, thinking of Selendrile's eyes. It never occurred to her that purple was the color of royalty.

"Yes my lady," the servant said, curtseying smoothly with a practice born from a lifetime of repetition. She stayed, head bowed even as Alys dismissed her.

"Is there something else?" Alys asked.

"I was just thinking, my lady, that we are fortunate that Lord Duncan's party now only consists of one guest, or we would never have enough bedsheets."

Alys froze, the half-knit booties clutched between tense fingers. She raised her eyes, hooking the girl in her incensed gaze. She could feel the displeasure at having to learn such an important thing from one of the gossiping servant girls coil like a venomous snake in her gut, but there was also a slim beam of hope as well. This might mean that she no longer had to worry about marriage plots. "I thought Lord Duncan was bringing his son with him."

The girl's curtsey bobbled lower as she hid her eyes from Alys's gaze. Alys could sense the terror in her posture as she realized that her words had been remiss. "I apologize, Lady Alys."

"How long have we known about this?"

"The message came in two days ago." The girl started to tremble, and Alys wasn't sure if it was from fear or from the prolonged curtsey.

"Stand up," Alys said. "What did the message say?"

"Just that Lord Duncan was sending his son in his stead, and that he would be arriving three days hence."

"Tomorrow?" Alys wanted to rail against the slim girl, to yell and demand to know why she wasn't told about this sooner, but she knew that it wasn't wise to blame the messenger or then no one would ever tell her anything. Somehow, she knew, this was Wolsey's doing. She'd find some way to deal with that slimy worm one of these days.

"Yes my lady." The girl hesitated. "If I may, they say that his lordship is a fine warrior. The best in his field."

Alys shot her a quelling look, instinctively knowing that they were now talking about the rumour that she was to wed this man. It was the final straw to make her well and truly angry. "You may go see to the beds now," Alys ordered with an unnatural quietness. She waited until the girl scurried back towards the castle before she rose to her feet with a lurch. Alys habitually wiped off her skirt, torn between the desire to head into the woods to calm down versus an angry confrontation with Selendrile. She stood, staring at the green-yellow of tree pollen covering the smooth surface of the water and clinging to the wet stones on the bank. She could feel the way the sound of the water began to calm her, and she pulled her waning anger back, ignoring the brook now as she thought about how she was being shut out.

She turned on her heel sharply, following the bank of the brook until she reached the edge of the forest. The manor was still within shooting distance, and she slipped between the trees without looking around for eyes on her. Alys knew that the less suspicious she seemed, the more likely her little walk would seem innocent. She kept following the brook, the sun casting deep green shade across her path and over her skin. The leaves rustled in the trees and the forest floor writhed with shadows. On a happier day, she would think it danced in light. Finally, she found the echo of where the brook had once been more, the old banks rising, mossy and fertile, above her head. She walked through the aperture, thinking it resembled a strike from some terrible creature which could cleave a hill in half until it remained bisected for eternity.

A tree with exposed cavernous roots caught her attention and she climbed the steep forest wall until she reached the base of it. The space in the earth was just large enough for someone slightly larger than herself to squeeze through, so when Alys slung her legs over the side of a root, letting them dangle into the earth, she was able to slip down without scraping her delicate skin on the rough bark. She found herself in a dim hole, enough light still leaking through to show her where she needed to crawl. Alys knelt on the ground, her fingers digging into the damp soil. She hated this part. Walking through the forest had taken her minutes, but the trek back in the blackness seemed to take hours. She had stopped fearing the dark while living in the caves, but she was smart enough to know that in a tight underground space such as this, darkness wasn't the only thing to be feared.

She emerged in a small chamber beneath the castle walls. There was a cache of weapons in the corner, as well as provisions in case of an emergency. Stairs led into the dark, though she could not see them yet. Alys groped along the wall on her right, searching for the small table left there. Her finger smacked into it, and she quickly ran her hands along the top of the old wood until she found a flint-stone. Deftly, Alys lit a candle she also located through touch, knowing from experience that the stairs were narrow and treacherous. Along the way, she had lost the anger that was driving her onwards, and now she only wanted to see him.

Selendrile had left a basin of water for her, understanding that he couldn't dissuade her from making the trip. She didn't think he appreciated why she did it, but he never said anything when she showed up in his inner sanctuary despite the fact that he locked himself in every morning so no one would find him in his true form. Quickly, she washed her hands and when they seemed relatively clean, she also scrubbed at her face though she couldn't see herself and had to hope that she was able to clean the grime from her skin. Alys picked up the candle, climbing the stairs as rapidly as she could. She was tired of the overwhelming darkness pressing into her.

A wood panel pushed open under her experienced fingers once she reached the top. The door slid open, revealing a large room with a sleeping dragon in the corner. She looked at Selendrile, the lengthened shadows from the window proving that it had taken her longer to reach him than she thought it would. Blowing the candle out, she put it down, knowing that it would be back downstairs if she needed it tomorrow.

"I'm surprised you're still asleep," she said suspiciously, knowing that he was usually awake by this point especially now that the days were getting longer. "I came here to yell at you," she confessed, "but I don't think I have it in me anymore." Alys looked at the spartan furniture in the room, seeing a mirror which swirled with dark spots and distorted images, a chair, and a table. She avoided looking at the dragon, though he was the drawing attraction in the chamber. He didn't move, and she knew this despite the fact she wasn't looking directly at him. She also knew that he was now awake and listening to her. She liked it when he had no choice.

"I'm worried about entertaining company. What if I'm not ready for this? What if they immediately know I'm a fraud like Wolsey did. I'm not a lady and I don't think I ever will be."

Selendrile's purple eye rested on her, gleaming like an annoyed jewel against the setting of gold. His reaction pulled at the anger she had felt earlier, and she knew that this fight had been building for weeks. "I won't marry this man. I know you've been training me so that I'll make a good match, but you'll just push me away."

He turned his attention away from her, and Alys took it as a dismissal.

"Do you hear me Selendrile?" Alys yelled, the lengthening shadows casting over her features until she looked like a haunted, terrible, and stunning version of herself in the mirror, with pools of darkness under her eyes, skin white in the waning sun, and her lips sharp red as their words bit into him. "I will leave you if you force me into marriage."

Selendrile's gold glowed, the creeping darkness making his scales into molten flames of flickering light and heat. Before her eyes his dragon form shifted, shrinking and molding itself into the shape of a man. The first words which emerged from his mouth were, "And if it is not loveless?"

Alys didn't see how that could ever be possible. Though she had never met the man in question, she knew in her heart that he would be the wrong one for her. Selendrile's words took the fight out of her stance, and her anger crumpled until all that was left was despair. "I don't know," she said quietly, though it was a lie. They both knew what would happen if she fell in love with another human.

"Then you would still leave me," he said, gathering a robe of black furs and draping them around him. His skin glowed gold, but instead of the bright mid-day sun or the most precious of metals, it was the strange sickly radiance of a tanned human. He sat on a chair in his room, an artist's easel set up in front of him. Alys had yet to see him pick up a brush and paint, but every month or so a new painting would appear downstairs which would cause the servants to readily accept his time in solitary. They also spoke of him being weak, less of a man because of his art. He looked tired, sitting there amid the glossy black pelt, almost diminished and frail.

Alys breathed sharply through her nose, walking towards him. The fur on his shoulder was soft beneath her touch, but she could not decide what animal it used to be. Up close, she could detect a tightness around his eyes, making him look aged beyond his years. It spoke of a hidden pain, though Alys couldn't see any injuries on his body. She was tempted to ask him if he was ill, but she knew that now was not the time to imply that he looked weak. "I want your word," she said softly, still stroking the fur covering him. Selendrile stared at the blank canvas before him, his amethyst eyes clouded by a thought which seemed to be a million miles away.

"You have it," he responded after a moment, reaching up to quiet her hand. They sat like that for a moment, Alys consort behind his regal setting as though they were a tableau of couple on more intimate terms.

"Then I want you to promise me something else," Alys said, emboldened by his ready agreement to her first request.

Selendrile stood, his face empty of whatever thought was storming through his head. He didn't promise her anything or everything, but stood there staring at her, waiting for her to put into words whatever it was she wanted to ask. Alys knew he wasn't disinterested, but doubt still started to claw at her confidence. She sucked it in, matching her expression to his.

"One of the servants just told me about our guests' change in plans. I don't appreciate being left in the dark, Selendrile, and I don't appreciate looking like a fool in front of others. Why wasn't I told?"

"The messenger arrived late at night," he responded with a negligible shrug.

"That is not an answer," Alys hissed, her anger swirling around her, within her, like a rough and heady blanket of ire. "You may be lord of this castle, but I am the lady. I DEMAND to be treated with the level of respect which is due to me!" In her fury, she missed the flash of ownership which sharpened his gaze, and then the hint of pride which softened them.

Selendrile wore his silence like a cloak, utilizing it as a weapon just as hurtful as her fury had been. Finally, he smirked slightly, his head inclining. "What would you have me do?"

"Stop keeping secrets," she said, hastily amending her request when he shot her a mocking look of disbelief at her seeming naivety. "Household secrets. Things I should probably know before walking into a situation, or before some servant surprises me with the news."

His gaze was hooded as he thought about her words, and then gestured with one hand for her to sit down in the chair he had just vacated. "It seems then, my lady, that we need to talk."

x.x.x.x.x.x.

The pool of water was deathly still, the crystal surface reflecting the patterns of the trees above her. Alys stared into it, her reflection somehow more. Her brown hair curled with the colors of autumn leaves freshly turned into golds and reds, and her eyes swirled with depths of hazel and a peculiar rim of purple around the irises. With moonbeams as skin, she illuminated the dark with an ethereal glow and when she realized the purple was an echo of Selendrile's amethyst eyes her brightening reflection caused her to squint against the light. Fey, a voice in her head jeered, spitting out the word as though it was the harshest of curses. Alys's shining skin withered, becoming a dull white as she realized that it was true. She looked non-human and it frightened her to think of it. She still feared that which she did not know, stemming from a lifetime of prejudice against creatures of magic. She was still young enough that her opinion could be swayed, but she was also not naïve enough to disbelieve all the tales as being untrue.

Selendrile might pretend to be a beautiful human, but so long as he was a dragon he would always be more.

"Aren't you more too?" Risa laughed, appearing behind Alys in the reflection in the dark water. "Look at your reflection and tell me that something hasn't rubbed off on you."

"This isn't real," Alys had the sense to point out. "I'm human."

"Why is that something to brag about?"

Alys didn't have an answer, and by staring at her likeness like a female Narcissus, she didn't know why she would want to go back to being plain. It almost hurt to look at the beauty in the mirror and know it was false.

"But is it?" Risa asked.

"Stop speaking in riddles," Alys said crossly, a frown on the face of the girl in the reflection. Alys swiped her hand across the silky surface of the water, sending that girl drowning in the waves.

"All I am is questions," Risa's voice came from behind. Alys couldn't move to look at her best friend, somehow rooted. She now understood that the only way she could see the world was through the image in the water. Risa's disembodied voice continued. "I have no answers."

"No?" Alys mocked. "But you used to be such a know-it-all."

"And you always were impatient." The reflection in the water shimmered back, still rippling enough that Alys had difficulty seeing the image. "The only help I can give is another warning. Watch out for Selendrile, Alys."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The next morning found Alys wearing a beautiful brocade dress of blues and gold. Selendrile had given it to her saying it was for a special occasion, and she had looked at the strange style and knew it was likely the newest fashion in London. Her maid had helped her with the lacings, and Alys arranged her waist-length hair into an elegant twist. The girl in the reflection of the mirrored glass was nothing like the tinsmith's daughter she had been. Alys never would have recognized herself, and she felt a strange sense of loss.

Her stomach was hollow, with butterflies fluttering nervously through her gut. She knew she needed to portray the image of lady flawlessly. She now believed Selendrile when he told her he wasn't trying to marry her to their guest, but only because the real truth was far more insidious. Alys felt like killing Selendrile herself when he had finally told her what it was he was keeping from her, and she thought she might be better off not knowing. But it was obvious that this news was not something that was safe to surprise her with.

Alys was still staring at her blurred reflection in the glass when the call went up from downstairs that horses were approaching. She stood, delicately hurrying down the stairs and taking her position at the head of the household. She knew that it could possibly be considered rude for Selendrile to not be there, but there was nothing they could do short of hiring an actor to pretend to be him. Alys knew it would be unfeasible to find someone with his hair and eyes.

Heavy steps approached the opened doorway. A thin man slipped through quickly, standing beside the open doorway as a sentry waiting for his master. Alys's heart was thudding so loudly in her chest she was sure that everyone could hear it. The footsteps continued, sounding more brutal with each thumping step and Alys was picturing the man with monstrous height and shoulders as wide as the door and thick as a tree.

The man who appeared in the doorway did not match her expectations. He was slight, with only a few inches on her in height. His entire outfit was heavy leather so brown it appeared to be black, and there was a heavy broadsword against his hip. It was the type of sword which was meant to kill, not for decoration. His hair was the same color as his clothes, and when he walked into the hall his face was set in a friendly smile at odds with who she knew he was.

The servant who had slipped into the room stepped forward. Alys was glad she had been warned, for she knew she wouldn't have been able to hide her reaction to what was said next. "May I present Sir Guy of Kirkwood, son of Sir Duncan and future earl of Kirkwood. Second knight in service to his Majesty the King, and the Slayer of Dragons."

Sir Guy bowed before her, a charming smile against his lips.

©RelenaFanel.June28.2007

* * *

Review. I'd love to know what those of you who have followed Alys and Selendrile's story through my writing think of this new plot, but I would especially like to hear from those of you who are new to my writing. What do you think? 


	3. Chapter 3

**Tempting the Dragon**

_Chapter 3_

* * *

Alys smiled at Sir Guy, the proper words of greeting emerging from her mouth as she schooled her expression into a shy, welcoming smile. Though Selendrile had warned her the night before, it was still difficult for her to hide her reaction to the words "Slayer of Dragons" as a title for her guest. She had barely slept, worried for Selendrile's life and cursing him for a fool. They didn't know if Sir Guy was on a hunt or not, and she thought it was foolhardy to accept him into their house when it was difficult enough to hide Selendrile's true nature from the unknowledgeable servants.

"I apologize for my brother, Lord Selendrile's, absence. The winter months were detrimental to his health, and I'm afraid he is still suffering from illness. The physicians assured us that he would get better once the snow melted, but I fear they were wrong." Alys kept smiling despite her solemn words as she turned to lead the guest into the dining hall. They were both facing the stairway to the second floor when a figure descending caught her attention. For a second she felt sorry for the poor person who was folded in half at the waist and clutching at the railing as though he was in a great deal of pain. Every step downwards was choppy, and he seemed to get more unsteady as he approached. His braided hair fell over one shoulder and Alys gasped, her eyes widening as she forgot about decorum and took two steps towards the staircase.

"Selendrile?" She asked incredulously, seeing the sun shine over his dull blond hair from a window behind him. His long locks were straw-like, and dampened from a sheen of sweat over his pallid skin. He appeared every inch of the sickly noble she had just described, and his condition the day before looked perfectly healthy compared to the deathly consistency of his person this afternoon. Alys hurried up the stairs towards him, still forgetting about their audience. She almost asked how he was human during the day before she remembered not to. Instead, she asked the question with a wide-eyed raise of her eyebrows and a frown.

"Sir Guy," Selendrile greeted, somehow managing to sound like a man of his station despite the fact he was clutching the banister to keep upright. "Welcome to my lands. I'm sure my lovely sister has explained my condition to you." Selendrile paused to cough weakly, and Alys was horrified to discover that it might not completely be for show when his kneed trembled and he held himself upwards with great difficulty. She inserted herself bodily before him, trying not to stand in his way, but praying that she could catch him if he fell. Hovering like a well-meaning mother, Alys wrung her fingers as Sir Guy bowed before his host.

"Thank you for your hospitality," Sir Guy responded. "Your lovely sister has, indeed, just finished explaining your health to me. My condolences."

Selendrile nodded, one of his shaky white hands reaching out to grasp hers. To an observer it would seem as though he was being brotherly, but instead he leaned his weight against her. Alys almost stumbled backwards, her skirts tangling around her legs as she took a stride back into the air over the next step down. With great effort and some mental arm waving for balance, she managed to straighten upwards and hold Selendrile still. He looked at her, the circles under his eyes great grey puddles. "Alys," he whispered, voice craggy from the effort to speak. Before her eyes, he waivered and Alys sprung forward to catch him before he fell. "Help me."

Never had she heard him ask for her help, and never had she expected to hear it. For a moment Alys just stared up at him, holding more of his weight up than he was. "Do you need to get back to your room?" She asked, assuming that was what he was asking her to do, but unsure. A few minutes ago she would have said it was impossible for him to appear in human form while the sun was burning hotly in the late spring skies. This just proved that all she knew about his powers and limitations came from what he told her during a time when they hadn't learn to trust and rely on each other yet.

Selendrile gave a curt nod, and Alys pushed him upright as she took a step to his level. She helped him turn gingerly, supporting his back with one of her arms. In moments like this, she was happy that she had grown up doing manual labour because she knew that a normal girl of her supposed social standing wouldn't be able to help Selendrile out of a chair let alone up half a flight of stairs and down a hallway. "Apologize to our guest," Selendrile hissed from the corner of his mouth, frowning at her with his impressive amethyst eyes. They were the one thing that hadn't dulled or waned about his appearance, and as she stared at them they wavered like a burning fire. Alys began to worry that maybe he was burning from the inside out.

"I'm sorry, Sir Guy. I will make sure my brother gets back to bed and then join you for the midday meal." That was as polite as Alys was getting. She didn't care if Selendrile got angry at her for being inhospitable after he went to so much trouble to ensure that Sir Guy was met properly. She didn't understand what he was thinking, putting himself in a position like this. Sometimes she thought that if all men were idiots, then male dragons were more man than most. She gathered her frail dragon against her, dragging him up the stairs so that all he had to do was put one foot in front of the other. "Is there anything you need? Some herbs or something to make you feel better?"

Selendrile grunted, missing a step and careening them both into the stone wall. Alys's left shoulder whacked solidly, shocks of pain flicking down the nerves of her arm and into her fingers. She hissed through her teeth, expelling her breath in one long, forced gush as she tried to center her thoughts through the pain. "Are you ok?" She asked, thankful that they had made it up the stairs before he lost motor control. The last thing either of them needed was a long fall over the banister.

"I'm going to pass out," Selendrile panted, sweat dripping from his pale grey flesh. His hair was drenched, the faded blond locks echoing some of their former golden glory with the dampened shade. Alys's fingers dug into his arm as she held him steady, watching consciousness waver in the twilight coloured depths of his eyes.

"Selendrile?" Alys asked tentatively, unsure of what to do. How did you treat a sick dragon? Did you bathe them in cold water and mother them through it like a human, or did you run away as quickly as possible?

"Don't let me," he panted, putting his head down to catch his breath. He swayed on his feet, and she would have allowed him to sit if she wasn't scared she wouldn't be able to get him back up. "Pass out," he continued the sentence after a deep breath and a hacking cough. "I'll turn."

Alys stared at him, horrified. She wanted to scream at him for taking such a stupid risk. She was sure that the only reason he was in human form right now was to convince the dragon slayer right off the bat that he was human, so Sir Guy would have a difficult time reconciling the image of Selendrile the dragon with the sickly human. It would keep him safe, so long as he didn't turn into a dragon in the hallway back to his room. "Idiot," Alys chided, fingers bruising the tender flesh of his arm below the shoulder as she attempted to pull him bodily towards his room.

"Stop. Stop." Selendrile commanded, one hand still braced against the wall. When she paused to look at him, he draped his arm over her shoulder, using her for a crutch. In this new position, Alys felt more confined, but she had to admit that it made her job slightly easier. As they walked, she focused on making sure his legs didn't tangle with hers and send them both sprawling against the floor. Pressed against Selendrile's side, with her arm around his waist, Alys could feel the weakness in his muscles and bones. He was thinner than she remembered, as though the sickness had been eating at his strength for months. Alys's heart broke because she hadn't really noticed it happening. What kind of friend was she?

They reached his room. With her free hand she opened the door, swinging them both through the entranceway. Selendrile fell to his knees, panting for breath. His heavy braid fell over his shoulder like a coil of rope and pooled on the floor. He coughed again, a wet and sickly sound that had her flinching in sympathy. She knew that he had saved her when she had fallen ill, but she didn't know what she could do to save him. She wasn't sure she could return the favour. "Selendrile," Alys whispered, rubbing across his shoulders in a comforting movement. They were still in the outer room of his suite, and she knew she had to get him through the door to his inner sanctuary soon. "Are you sure there is nothing I can get you to make you well?"

"I'm not ill." He responded stubbornly, sitting back on his knees and grabbing her hand. His fingers were cool against hers, but when she looked into his eyes they still burned with a fever, seeming disconnected and fierce all at once. "You must find out what he knows."

"What he knows?"

"About us. About dragons." He shuttered, shivering as though he were cold. He collapsed to the floor, his forearms taking most of his fall so his pretty face didn't smash against wood. His breath expelled in a long sigh, and it was a long two seconds for Alys before he inhaled again.

"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God," she prayed, grabbing him under his arms and dragging him across the smooth, worn floor. He slid without moving, and the hiss of his body being dragged across the floor made Alys think of the dead. She was frantic to get him safe before he changed, her heart pounding with the idea that he could trap her beneath his unconscious dragon form. She opened the hidden door to his secret room and tossed him in, not worrying about gentleness at the moment. Beneath her hands, she could feel his muscles rippling and expanding, frothing forward like churning butter. His bones slid beneath her fingers, and she was able to feel the beginnings of his change. Selendrile rolled across the floor, and then burst outward, his skin an insufficient dam for his dragon. The door slammed in her face, his large body now resting against it to ensure that no one would be able to enter the room while he was vulnerable.

Alys wiped her sweating hands against her beautiful blue dress. She could feel perspiration sliding down her back, and she hoped she hadn't ruined the lovely gown she was wearing. Swiftly, she hurried from the bedroom, closing the outer door behind her. Alys hoped they hadn't taken overlong, and though it had seemed to her like it had taken ages to get Selendrile to safety, she was sure it had only lasted a few minutes. She didn't want her guest to be impatient with her. It was more difficult to subtly interrogate someone if they weren't pleased with you.

"I'm sorry for the delay," Alys said with a charming smile as she hurried into the dining hall. Sir Guy stood politely as she entered, and Alys took a seat across the short width of the table so she would be able to watch him. She was incredibly weary of having this man in her house, especially when the species he was hunting was currently upstairs sleeping off his recklessness. "Unfortunately my brother is a stubborn man who doesn't believe he has limitations until he falls on his face." Her words were spoken with a bit of rueful anger, with an undertone of worry, and she knew that the tone was the right one to take when Sir Guy nodded.

"My father is the same way. I practically had to barricade him in the house so he wouldn't make this trip."

"I'm sorry," Alys said demurely, wishing a spark of empathy hadn't flicked through her at his words. It would be so much easier for her to hate him if she didn't like him a little. "I didn't realize he was ill." A bowl of soup was placed before the two of them by servants, and Alys picked up her spoon with light fingers.

"I'm not sure he realizes it either." He smiled to show it was a joke, and Alys echoed it, unsure of whether she was just being polite or not.

"Are you here to hunt dragons, Sir Guy?" Alys asked abruptly, dropping her spoon into the bowl with a rude clank.

"Yes and no," the heir of Kirkwood responded, continuing with his meal as though they were discussing the weather or some other trite topic. To him, they probably were. "I am here to investigate a dragon sighting in the area, but when it is an isolated incident like this, the claims are usually unsubstantiated. Usually, either someone made the dragon up to impress his friends, or the dragon is long gone by the time I arrive."

"I find dragons fascinating, so long as I don't have to look them in the mouth, I guess." Alys laughed weakly. "Can you tell me a bit about them?"

"Maybe some other time," he told her with a friendly smile. "I'd rather not exhaust my one interesting topic of conversation on the first day."

When lunch was over their guest excused himself to go for a ride into the nearest town. Alys graciously declined his invitation to join him. She waited until the sound of hoof-beats were far in the distance before taking off on a quick trip of her own. When she reentered the castle an hour later, a rabbit was cuddled in her arms.

Alys petted the tiny creature as she walked up the stairs, the soft brown fur smooth beneath her fingers like the finest of silk. The closer she got to Selendrile's room, the more the rabbit struggled in her grasp. Alys's heavy brocade dress protected her skin from scrambling paws, and she hand to pause outside the hidden door. "Selendrile," she whispered, "it's me. Will you please let me in?"

His great bulk shifted away from the door, and Alys pushed it far enough open so she could slip through. His tail whooshed over her head, slamming the door behind her. His dragon eyes stared at her, the expression in them inhuman. He looked like a predator eying his prey, and Alys wasn't sure if it was the rabbit or her that put that look in his eyes.

"I brought you a light snack," she told him, offering the small animal. "I know it isn't much, but I don't think I would be able to sneak a small deer up here." He had explained to her that his food needed to be alive when he ate it, and to never, ever approach him with blood on her hands. At the time she hadn't asked why, but now that he was watching her with starving eyes instead of the rabbit she had let loose on the floor, Alys realized that she should have forced him to insert a little hard reality into their relationship before she got herself into a situation like this. Her heart was pounding more now than it ever had during their exercise earlier, and she could feel a nervous dampness on her palms. She never would have brought him a snack if she thought he would see her as the main course.

"I'm not lunch," she said firmly, glaring at the dragon. She watched Selendrile's dragon face staring down at her with distain, much like the look on Wolsey's face whenever he saw her. The eyes, though, glinted almost black with hunger. He growled at her, and she didn't know if it was a warning or an expression of his intent. Alys warred with her fight or flight instincts, knowing that she had no where to go but down the dragon's throat if she bolted. His tail was blocking the door, and she would have to get around him in order to reach the entrance to the tunnel. He might be small for a dragon, but he was quick and clever.

The rumble continued in Selendrile's throat, and there was no doubt in Alys's mind that he could eat her. His head swooped in suddenly and his massive lower jaw scooped up the frighten rabbit, clenching down on it with his mouth so that the crunch of bones was audible in the small enclosed room. Alys jumped at his motion, spinning and trying to open the door behind her during the seconds long reprieve the snack gave her.

Selendrile bellowed, thunderous and terrorizing, the sound echoed through the room as his tail lashed out and slammed her face first into the door. Alys smacked into the wood, blood spurting hot and thick out of her nose and coating her throat with a cloying metallic taste. She choked on it, the world surrounded by the senses of her own blood flowing freely in a room with a hungry dragon. Her heart beat pounded in her ears, steady and strong like a marching army, but fragile with the thought that the next beat could be the last. Alys clung to the door, arms spread wide against the panel, and waited for the dragon at her back to eat her. She could feel his need, his hunger sucking all the air out of the room, but she could also sense his hesitation. Head back so that she was swallowing the blood, Alys choked on it again, her coughs spraying drops of crimson against the heavy oak.

The dragon flexed against her, the tail digging into her spine and forcing her body painfully tight against the unyielding wood, and then he was gone. Alys stumbled in her freedom, grappling with the doorknob until she managed to turn it. Fleeing, she resisted the urge to turn back and look at Selendrile. She couldn't bear to see the possessive gleam in his eyes again, not now.

x.x.x.x.x.

The sky was black with storm-clouds, thick and angry they coated the heavens until not even the sun could permeate through the harsh blanket. The forest was black with shadows, and despite the fact it was midday, it was as dark as night in her clearing, beneath the tall, canopy tree. Alys stood, feeling the electricity of the storm on the air, and the moisture of rain not far off. The reflection pond was glowing, casting a shadow of light against the world. She took a step towards it, feeling the wind swirl around her, gently pushing her back. Air wisped through her hair, whispering endearments she couldn't quite hear. Alys sighed, blinking long so that her eyes rested shut for seconds longer than they had to. She let her other senses explore the forest floor, and she was able to hear the comfort the wind offered.

She twirled with her eyes closed, finishing the dance with nature she had started the night of the storm. Her feet fell softly against the mossy ground, and as she spun, dipped, and laughed, the air guided her around rocks and over fallen logs. With a final breath, she opened her eyes and found herself in front of the pool of water. Smiling, she curtseyed her thanks to her dancing partner, and then leaned over to stare into the shimmering, glowing water.

And screamed, loud and shrill like a loon calling to Charon.

Staring back at her was not her own image, or at least she hoped it wasn't. Eaten, decaying flesh covered the skull in blossoming purple strands. The eyes were empty, showing stark white bone staring vacantly into the world. A few wisps of hair remained on the head, the flesh clinging to bone like a bloodthirsty leech. The mouth hung open, jaw extended in a permanent scream. Alys panted in fright, taking in the pyramid of skulls beneath, all staring up at her with shrieking terror.

"No," she whispered, not understanding. The wind caressed along her throat and it was a threatening stroke now. She clawed at her neck, feeling strangled.

"They're your dead," Risa explained harshly, appearing against the tree in a quick motion that propelled Alys away from the pool nestled amid the roots.

"Why are you haunting me?" Alys whispered words were vulnerable to her fright and confusion.

"Haunting?" Risa laughed, disappearing from her spot against the tree and reappearing right in front of Alys. This time the dreaming girl held her ground and her dead friend smirked an approval. "I'm not haunting you. I'm here to help."

"Help?" Alys laughed bitterly. "To warn me again to watch out for Selendrile? Oh, I know that, believe me. He almost ate me today."

Risa grabbed her arm sharply. "You don't understand!"

Half a second later Alys found herself staring back into the pool of the dead. The water rippled, giving the deceased the look of life. Empty eye sockets seemed to follow her movement as she shook her head hastily.

"You killed these people!" Risa shook Alys arms and pointed into the water. "You're to blame for their deaths. You believe so up here," Risa tapped Alys's head with a finger. "If you don't change the future, Selendrile's skull will go on top."

For an instant she saw it, his purple eyes vacant and pale in death, staring at her from under the water as his golden hair floated around his grotesquely smiling face.

Alys screamed and screamed and screamed, hands clutched around her middle. Nonsensical denials emerged from her lips and she stared at the pool in horror despite the fact it was empty water now. She could barely hear Risa's customary warning over the sound of her own voice repeating, "no no no no. I wouldn't. No."

"Watch out for Selendrile, Alys." And she knew this time that she couldn't dismiss the nightmare as only being a dream.

.x.x.x.x.

Alys awoke to cold water dripping on her face. Her eyes flew open blindly and she scuttled backwards across the bed. She didn't wake up in her own room and it took her a moment longer than usual to orient herself. Blinking, on the cusp of shrieking, she recognized Selendrile's face on the other side of the bed. He was staring at her with a wet cloth clutched in his hand, a forlorn look invading his worried mask. Alys reached for him automatically, crawling back over his bed to give him a soft hug. She recognized the guilty sorrow pinching the corners of his eyes, and remembering the scene they had the last time she saw him, she knew he thought she had scrambled away because it.

"I'm sorry," she told him, murmuring against the white shirt he had probably pulled on for her comfort. Alys rested her forehead against his shoulder, taking reassurance from the solid reliability he offered. "It was my fault. I should have left you alone."

Selendrile gently grasped her cheeks between both of his hands, raising her head so he could look at her face. "I don't think it's broken," he told her, taking his right hand away from where it helped cradle her chin and felt the bridge of her nose. Alys winced, more from expected pain than actual sting. He grabbed the wet cloth off the bed and dabbed her jaw. "It's amazing. I thought your nose would be a mangled mess and I would have to set it. You lost enough blood to pass out."

"I did not!" Alys insisted. "I took a nap."

"Come on," he chided. "The scent was so powerful I can still taste it. If you hadn't brought that rabbit with you I don't know if I would have been able to distract myself from thinking you were food." Alys wanted to argue with him and insist that he wouldn't have eaten her, but she wasn't sure that was true. The danger and uncertainty of him gave her a small thrill like it always did. He continued talking before she could formulate a response. "You're not to come see me during the day anymore."

Alys stared at him.

"I mean it, Alys. Until I grow stronger with my new ability, I don't want to see you when I could lose control." He kissed her forehead, lips lingering against her skin and chasing away the memory of her nightmare for a few precious seconds. Alys closed her eyes, a slight smile playing along her lips. She wanted to ask questions about him being able to turn human during the day despite the sun, but instead she held herself in his loose embrace and tried not to allow her desperation to stay close to him show on her face. Alys remembered the dream now in clarity, and it chilled her to think of him dead. She would do anything to keep that from happening.

The best she could do at the moment was closely watch the slayer of his kind they had sleeping down the hall. "I'll go make sure our guest is settling." She stood with effort, and moving away from him was harder still. He grabbed her wrist firmly, holding her with him. Alys turned, seeing the jealous gleam in his eyes, hidden behind concern for her wellbeing. She wanted to rail against him, and insist that he didn't own her. But he did. It burned her to see that he thought a human male could get between them. "I hate this place," she sobbed, façade breaking for a single moment.

"We'll leave," he soothed. "Soon."

"We've been here for almost a year, and you still haven't found it." Alys pointed out, ripping her wrist out of his grasp and backing towards the door, keeping an eye on him to make sure he didn't try to grab her again. "If we're here much longer, you're going to lose me. I can't pretend to be your sister for much longer before starting to believe it." Alys turned and fled. It was a lie, but she hoped it was enough of a threat. She just didn't know how to keep him safe.

©RelenaFanel.Aug2.2007

How many of you think I brought Sir Guy in to be a romantic interest for Alys? How many of you like the idea of Selendrile having to work for her affections? I'm not going to answer the first question because it gives away important plot details, but I do so love Selendrile when he gets possessive.


	4. Chapter 4

**Tempting the Dragon**

_Chapter 4_

* * *

.x.

* * *

Two days of avoiding Selendrile found Alys outside in a secluded area in front of the treeline of her vast property. Being outside in nature was not a strange thing for Alys, as it was her habit to take time each day for a walk or alone time. The company she had this late afternoon was, however, very out of character for her. She sat on a rough fence made by one of the farmers, the weather worn wood creaking beneath her slight frame. In the pasture behind her, horses trampled on the grass as others stopped to snack on it, eying the two humans trespassing in their territory wearily. In front of her, Sir Guy had set up a series of bullseyes among the trees, and was practicing his aim. Alys hadn't seen such a straightshooter since her time back with Lora and Conrad, but then again the closest she had come to seeing someone use a bow and arrow since was Christmas supper. Back then, it had never been her who hit the targets with accuracy, but she knew talent when she saw it. Sir Guy was good. 

But he wasn't the thing legends were made of.

"I've never seen a dragon before," Alys said, smoothly changing the topic of conversation. Honesty-wise, they were off to a great start.

"Let's hope you never see one," Guy answered, shooting an arrow into one of his targets.

"Are they as frightening as the stories say?"

"A dragon is a bloodthirsty creature that would rather devour you whole than leave you alone."

Alys was sure the devouring she was in danger of was not the same as what Sir Guy was referring to. She wasn't even sure she believed what he was saying. She had met one other dragon besides Selendrile, and he had not tried to eat her. In fact, he had exchanged wits with her, made fun of her, then warned her of danger. She had nightmares more threatening. "But you hunt them. You must be very brave if they are as bad as you say."

"To hunt a dragon you need more than bravery. You need to be agile, smart, and highly skilled with weapons."

"They call you the dragonslayer," Alys said, playing on his vanity. "You must be all of these things."

"Of course." Sir Guy's arrow hit just a tad off center. Alys thought that he might not be as good as he bragged he was. "But another thing in my favour is my knowledge of dragons." He notched another arrow. "You see, they might be big, but they're also stupid. What more can you expect from a lesser fey?"

"Lesser fey?" He had her full attention now. It no longer seemed like a game for her to quiz him for information, all the while appearing to be just a pretty face. Now she realized he could tell her things about dragons which Selendrile would never share with her. Be that as it may, she couldn't see how Selendrile could be _lesser_ to anything in any way. While she was renewed in her interest of the words coming out of his mouth, she was still skeptical.

"It all has to do with intelligence and power, I believe. There are greater fey, with powers beyond imagining, and then there are lesser, who are just – lesser."

"Dragons don't have power?" She knew this was false.

"They can spit fire, sure, but nothing threatening to the fairies or others of their ilk."

Fool, Alys thought. His own narrow-mindedness would probably get him killed. She didn't know where he was getting his information, just like she didn't know where he was finding stupid dragons, but she took back her assessment that maybe she could learn something from him. Her attention went back to her surroundings. One of the horses behind her was edging towards them carefully. She could hear birds in the sky, and the leaves were turning right-side up in a promise of rain. "What color are dragons? I've heard stories where they are brown, green, copper-"

"They are all those colors. I've even killed one that was a mixture of them all." Boasting, he shot his final arrow and once again hit slightly offcenter.

"What about gold?" Alys asked. Sir Guy put down his bow and turned towards her. For a second Alys thought she had made a mistake by mentioning the color.

"Have you ever heard of the Sangreal?"

"The Holy Grail?" Alys asked with a frown, wondering how this was related to Selendrile. She thought it was strange that he would bring it up at a time when Selendrile was on his own quest for a hidden object of great and powerful importance to his kind.

"Yes," Sir Guy answered, sounding put-out because he didn't get to explain to her what the etymology was behind the word. "Golden dragons are the Holy Grail to dragon hunters. I've never seen one, personally, but I've met warriors who insist they exist, and others who disbelieve the stories. I have also met skilled slayers who have dedicated their career to finding and killing a golden."

Alys felt cold fear ripple down her spine. She had never realized how dangerous it was for Selendrile to show his true form. She wanted to go lock him in the castle and never let him out. She wanted to insist that he get away from this town of people who would pass on the tale of seeing him like an airborn sickness until word reached someone like Sir Guy. That coldness settled in her heart as she realized that Sir Guy could be here for that exact reason. "Do you believe, Sir Guy?" Her heart was hammering as she waited for his response, but she stared disinterestedly at her fingernails.

"I've seen enough myths alive in the real world to not disbelieve."

"Are you here on a hunt?" That was the most important question as far as Alys was concerned. She had wanted to just blurt it out the first day in the hall, and again at every meal they took together.

"I'm checking the validity of a few rumours originating from this area."

"Oh my God!" Alys exclaimed, a hand flying up to cover her mouth when she realized that she had done. It wasn't just about taking the Lord's name in vain; she had just given away her concern after the carefully mediated conversation they just had. When he looked at her questioningly, she said, "there's a dragon in the area? Should I warn the town? Should I stay inside? They like young maidens, don't they?"

Sir Guy laughed at her and Alys relaxed a small amount. "I doubt there really is a dragon," he told her, jumping off his perch on the fence next to her and collecting the arrows from the targets. "Stories about dragons are usually made up by old drunks sitting around a tavern, or young men trying to impress people with heroic deeds. They are usually nothing but entertaining stories. As far as I've been able to tell, you don't have anything to worry about. If there really is a dragon, there is always a lot more evidence than just a few talltales. The ground is usually scored by their talons, the land is turning barren from the sulpher of their breath, animals are scarce, people are missing, and whole town populations start to move away. Those left jump at the smallest shadow and appear to be victims of their own fears. There is nothing like that around here."

Alys stared at Sir Guy thoughtfully, her mind feeling almost euphoric in relief. Selendrile hadn't been showing himself on the few excursions he took a week, and if he had been, he hadn't harmed any humans like he had promised her so long ago. She understood the group mentality of a town living in fear far more than her current company knew, and she still couldn't get over the idea of danger to Selendrile. She hadn't really thought of his dragon form as something to be fearful _for_. "I'm relieved," she said, not elaborating what made her sigh and relax. She knew he would think it was because he told her she wasn't in danger, and Alys had no problem continuing that lie. This undercover work was something she needed to work on, she realized. She had been so confident that she could coerce and manipulate this man that she hadn't tempered her reactions to his information.

"Good," Sir Guy said with the same charming smile he had tried dazzling her with when they first met. Alys had too much on her mind to respond with much more than a wane curl of her lips in return. Sir Guy handed her the arrows and she took them automatically, not quite paying attention to what he was implying. It wasn't until he handed over his bow, too, that she realized he intended her to shoot next.

"What?" She asked, staring dumbly at Sir Guy. She honestly did understand what he was implying, but what she didn't understand why he wanted her to. Most men didn't like seeing women advertise their skill at defending themselves, and Alys had assumed that Sir Guy would fall under that category, especially since he seemed to enjoy being a defender of the innocent.

"You mentioned before that you knew a little about archery because your brother tried to teach you."

"Yes, but I haven't practiced since before he got ill." Alys smiled her defensive, charming, and slightly vacant grin. Sir Guy took it at face value, handing her all the equipment she would need and settling back against the fence to watch. Alys wondered if this was a mechanism to humiliate her as she slipped the overly large wrist guard over her smaller hands. The sun was now waning in the sky and she had trained herself to be hyper-aware of the chill of twilight magic. She could feel the setting sun brushing along her skin as it was swept away by night, and though it was still light out, the hair on her arms stood at the caress of energy.

Alys brushed this awareness aside, focusing on her target as she centered herself and raised the bow into position. Her hand drew the string back to eyelevel and she took a deep, relaxing breath before releasing the arrow. It flew through the air, smacking sideways against the target. She stared at the bow in her hands with distaste. She knew that the bow was too long for her armspan, but that didn't make her feel any more accomplished with her perceived skills. Sir Guy wisely remained silent.

Centering herself again, Alys pulled the string as far back as she could, her shoulder shaking slightly at the weight it was trying to pull. She knew that with this bow she would never have perfect accuracy, but she might learn how to compensate enough so she at least hit straight on instead of sideways. This time the arrow soared through the air, and then dipped so that it hit the tree trunk instead of the target above. The arrow hadn't picked up enough velocity to stick in the bark, and instead fell harmlessly to the ground.

Alys gritted her teeth in annoyance. She had been ready to be horrible at the sport, but this was ridiculous. She tried again, and this time the arrow thwacked against a tree next to the target. It vibrated for a moment, mocking her with how far she was from where she was supposed to aim. This was ridiculous!

"If the manor is ever attacked, I'll feel safe knowing you're here to protect me."

Alys twirled around, fire in her eyes. She expected to see Sir Guy behind her, and the fact that sarcasm and mockery were not part of his character as she perceived it did not stop the defensive accusations ready on her lips. Instead, Selendrile was lounging insolently against the fence, his elbows set back to brace him and causing his broad shoulders to stretch the cotton of his loose white shirt. His hair trailed freely down his back, the gold glinting in the waning sun. All the comebacks died on Alys's lips as she stared at him and he smirked at her.

"Selendrile," Alys exclaimed with a breathy pleasure. "You're looking well." And he did look well, healthy even, despite the slight tired discoloration beneath his eyes. His skin had dropped the grey, sickly sheen which had startled her in the past few days, and when he looked at her his eyes were alive with amusement.

"I'm having a good day," he conceded, pushing away from the fence in a smooth motion so he was left standing in the field, framed by the darkening sky and his own fertile property. He took a step towards her, and her view narrowed until she could only see him. The bow loosened in her hand, wood sliding in her fingers until it jarred against the ground. His smirk became more pronounced. "I just came to inform both of you that supper is ready."

Alys jarred physically, her eyes guiltily turning towards Sir Guy. She smiled, curtseying slightly as she handing him back his archery material. "I'm afraid I'm far worse than you could have expected." Selendrile took her arm, tucking it into his as he turned away from Sir Guy to lead her back towards the house.

"If you don't mind Guy, I'll help my sister back to the house without you. Between my illness and her delicate footing, you can be sure that you will likely arrive before us!" Selendrile chuckled boomingly, negating his rude gesture by bringing attention to it with a joke. Alys wasn't sure why men could get away with that. They walked for a pace, Selendrile surprisingly surefooted and upright for someone who could barely crawl up a flight of stairs on his own earlier in the week. She had expected him to lean on her, and for some reason she was disappointed when he didn't need to. She liked being the needed one, for once. "You looked truly hopeless at archery," he said conversationally.

"Yes," she laughed slightly in return. "I didn't hit a single target."

Selendrile leaned closer to her, confiding. "We both know you hit exactly what you wanted to."

"I did not," Alys said with surprise. "I was off by a few inches on the last one."

Selendrile laughed, pulling her arm tighter against him. Alys was unnerved and charmed by how well he had seen through her ruse.

"Sir Guy doesn't seem to know anything about dragons. He's following up on a few rumours, but hasn't come across any of the usual signs."

"I've been careful," Selendrile responded.

"Yes. I never realized how dangerous it was for you. He explained how uncommon golden dragons are."

"Did he?" Selendrile asked sharply. "I suppose he thinks he'd have a winning chance at slaying one."

"He thinks dragons are lesser fey."

Selendrile snorted. "I'm sure the ones he's slayed are no more than pets, like one of your dogs." Selendrile's grasped tightened almost painfully and gave Alys the hint that something was bothering him. She wasn't sure if it was bitterness at the idea of Sir Guy hunting his kind, or worry, but she could feel the mounting tension in his muscles. For one alarming moment she thought that he was losing control of his human form, but then she realized that the sun had almost set completely. Selendrile had always been able to turn once the only light in the sky was the colorful glow of the sunset.

"You did good," he told her.

Alys smiled.

x.x.x.x

After supper that night, Sir Guy and Selendrile retired to the sitting room for a game of checkers. Alys demurely followed with a book, sitting in a corner as the men joked and fought for control of the board. At one point, she looked up to find them in a heated political debate, and she was amused to see that Selendrile was winning. It entertained her that Sir Guy was sitting not even a foot away from his mythical dragon and wasn't aware. Once Selendrile won the argument, he looked at her and winked.

Alys smiled back, pleased to know that Selendrile knew exactly what he was doing. Her book became boring, her eyes heavy, and before long she excused herself and went to bed. Hours later, she was still tossing and turning beneath the mismatched covers. Finally fed up, she donned a robe and slipped out of her room. When she had been younger, her father would get her a small amount of milk straight from the cow, and she would drink the warm beverage and sleep. She wondered if there was any milk left in the kitchens from yesterday's pail.

Her feet were quiet on the wood and stone floor, slipping over the hallway and down the stairs with barely a sigh. She paused outside of the kitchen, hearing voices from within.

"No, Mr. Wolsey, please," Alys heard one of the female maids whisper.

Alys gasped, backing away from the doorway for a shocked second. Then she squared her shoulders and burst into the kitchen, a look of distain already across her features. "Oh Wolsey," she said, feigning surprise, "I was planning to speak with you tomorrow, but since you're here—" Alys trailed off, turning towards the scullery maid. "You may excuse us, Catherine."

Alys was silent until the girl bobbled her head and scurried from the room. "I have found, Wolsey, that while you have the skills necessary to run a household, they are not indispensable. In fact, your actions lead me to presume that this household would be better off without you."

"Your ladyship," Wolsey sneered, "I am fortunate it is your brother, and not you, who presides over my employment."

Alys laughed bitterly. "Is that so? Let me assure you that if he were to somehow hear that you were the one who impregnated the poultry maid last month and not her husband, he would not be quite so understanding." She turned on her heel, and left the kitchen, finally truly feeling like the lady of the household. She thought that maybe she could get to sleep now. On her way down the hallway she hesitated outside of Selendrile's room, wondering if she should warn him tonight that she would fire Wolsey if he continued to coerce the help into lying with him. It made her feel unsafe in her own home at times, and the part that really bothered her was that if not for Selendrile, it would be likely that she would be working in a house exactly like this one.

She moved passed his door after a brief paused, allowing the light from a few ensconced candles aid her way back to her room. Through the thick windows cut from stone, she could see that the black clouds which had been rolling in earlier were now covering the sky, and she shivered at the perceived chill in the air. She wondered if the reason she couldn't sleep was the mounting fury of the storm, getting ready to break.

"Cold?" A voice asked from the shadows of the hallway. Alys's hand flew up to cover her neck, and she jumped slightly, startled.

"Slightly," she responded. "I believe it will rain tonight."

"Are you having trouble sleeping?"

Alys nodded.

"So am I," he put a heavy hand on her arm. "Why don't you come with me, and we'll talk?"

"Sir Guy," Alys said, flustered. "This is highly improper."

"I assure you," he said, "my intentions are honourable."

"I'm sorry," she edged away. "I'm afraid I will have to bid you goodnight."

Sir Guy laughed, moving closer to her. His body was warm against her front, and Alys wasn't sure whether she should push him away or not. His advances were not welcomed, but he was not doing anything besides standing within her personal space and staring at her. In the dark, she could not discern the expression on his face. Her heart pounded wildly, and her hand made a fist around the blade hidden in her robe. Wolsey's activities were thick on her conscience, and she was frightened.

"You're incredibly lovely," Sir Guy whispered, his fingers threading through her curling hair.

"Thank you," Alys stuttered.

"You've enchanted me with your gentle spirit and breeding. I've been searching for a woman who is the antithesis to my warrior ways, and I believe I've found her in you. I knew the moment you picked up the bow this afternoon."

"What are you saying, Sir Guy?"

"I was hoping we could be married before my departure, and you could accompany me back to Kirkwood."

"Married," Alys echoed, stunned.

"This would be the best time for it, while your brother is still alive to give you away."

Her brother? Alys thought. The realization struck her almost immediately, and it was all she could do to keep from laughing. Sir Guy _was_ here on a hunt; he was searching for a wife. "I'm honoured," Alys murmured.

Before she could slip away and turn him down, Sir Guy swooped in for a kiss. Alys turned her face to the side, coming eye-to-eye to Selendrile, whose purple eyes cooled to a storm grey in his anger. Sir Guy's lips touched her cheek, and a moment later Selendrile's fist flew into the side of his face. Guy fell sideways, landing face-first on the hallways floor. Lightning crackled and lit up the sky, throwing a glowing light over Selendrile's furious features for one perfect second. He stood, dominating the hallway, and pulsing with anger.

"Keep your hands off her," he snarled, hauling Alys against him possessively. She curled into his side, and she could feel his muscles quivering in an attempt to control his fury. Alys gasped as his hand dug into waist.

"You misunderstand," Sir Guy said to the floor. "Alys and I are to be wed."

"I understand perfectly," Selendrile sneered. "Alys belongs to me and you are no longer welcome in my house."

"Ask her!" Sir Guy urged.

Alys's silence was less damning than anything she could say. Selendrile let go of her, pushing her behind him as he approached Sir Guy. Alys bit her lip and stood back. Selendrile swooped in, grabbing Sir Guy by the back of his collar and slamming him against the wall at eyelevel in one smooth movement. Alys jumped backwards.

"She's mine!" Selendrile growled, slamming Sir Guy into the wall again. His head cracked against the stone wetly, and Alys gasped as he slumped forward. Selendrile dropped him, a flash of lightning blaring her retinas with gold, purple, and a smear of violent, violent red. Alys took a step backwards as Selendrile advanced towards her.

With a blast of cool, wet air, the sudden rainfall roared from without the castle walls. Within, Alys bolted into her room and shut the door. She didn't dream of Risa that night.

©RelenaFanel.Aug30.2007

* * *

Ode to Selendrile:

_Oh Selendrile, what have you done?  
And why do I love you more for it?  
If Alys doesn't listen to what you don't say,  
Maybe you need to roar it!_

And this is why I fail at poetry.

Please review.


	5. Chapter 5

Tempting the Dragon

Chapter 5

That night, Alys barely slept. The slightest of movements would wake her from her fragile bonds with sleep, and she would lie awake for what seemed like hours, staring into the darkness with apprehension. The wind and rain on her windowsill became her worst enemy, and she would stare into the black night beyond the window, the cool breeze from outside caressing along her chilled skin, and with every sigh against the stone she was convinced that Selendrile had come for her, and was watching just beyond her line of sight.

Her mind wanted to run away, to remain hidden beneath her blankets, but her body wanted him to be there.

When Alys finally did drift off, her sleep was fitful and disturbed by disjointed dreams which didn't translate into memories when she awoke to the rising sun. She rolled out of bed stiffly, no longer used to sleepless nights now that she had constant warmth, shelter, and food. Her worries never ceased, and though her situation in life had risen in fortune, she was still concerned over the health of a loved one. Selendrile might not be her father, but she was still in a situation where she had to hide her protector's condition – her father's illness and Selendrile's true form – through deception and lies of her own. The more she thought about it, the more she realized her life hadn't changed.

Then her thoughts circled back to Sir Guy, and she knew that wasn't completely true. Her father had been a gentle man and would never have bashed another man's head in to protect her honour. Of course, her father had gotten ill far before the local men had started to cast their eye towards her, so she didn't know whether he would have become violent for her wellbeing or not, but she was sure that he wouldn't be as aggressive as Selendrile had been hours before for the simple reason that someone wanted to marry her.

She had no idea what had come over Selendrile, but it frightened her.

It wasn't until she had dressed and walked into the hallway did Alys realize the true depth of her dilemma. She would have to be careful about asking after Sir Guy in case Selendrile had killed him. She didn't want to draw attention to the fact that their guest was possibly missing. On the other hand, it might seem strange for her not to care where he was. As she walked out of her bedroom, the skirts of her dress swished over the floor, sighing as she drew to a halt where she had last seen Sir Guy lying. The blood had been scrubbed from the floor and wall, and without the ability to talk to Selendrile, she didn't know what was going on.

Alys almost wished she hadn't made him a promise not to go into his room during the day, but on the other hand, she was far, far too anxious about being alone with him now. He was too volatile. She trusted him still, almost blindly, but she wasn't sure she felt safe. There were times when Alys thought safety was overrated – it didn't give her that kick of adrenaline she had become so addicted to during her trainee days with Lora and Conrad.

"Miss Alys, Miss Alys, come quickly," one of the servant girls called from out of sight. Alys was jarred out of her trance.

"What is it?" she asked, picking up her skirts and hurrying for the stairs. She ran down them quickly, her feet hardly making a sound as she moved. At the foot of the stairs stood Catherine, the girl from the night before, and she was panting as she tried to catch her breath. "Did something happen with Wolsey?"

The girl nodded breathlessly, holding to the balustrade to keep from tumbling over.

"Did he harm you?" Alys asked sharply, the fury coursing through her blood even better than adrenaline.

"No, it's not that," Catherine said, her cheeks pinkened from an excursion. "He's at the Smith's cottage. He just fired Mrs. Smith from her job as cook, and I think he's planning to kick the entire family off their land."

"Why?" Alys demanded.

"Because their eldest daughter has brought shame to the family."

"I don't understand," Alys frowned, trying to resist the urge to reach out and shake the girl into giving her a straight answer.

"Because she ran away with the man of her dreams last night. And Sir Guy left in a hurry around the same time. You can see what people are saying. Mrs. Smith refused to come in this morning and now Wolsey is saying that to have a family like them on Lord Selendrile's land is to invite talk of scandal."

Alys snorted, taking a moment to hike her skirts up as she began to power walk towards the front door.

"Lady Alys! If Wolsey signs the eviction edict he has with him, under law not even his lordship can undo it."

Alys cursed softly under her breath, picking up speed until she hit the front door at a run. She smacked into it, the heavy wood groaning against her weight and swinging open just enough so she was able to slip through. Her feet against the long grass rustled like the wind, and as she ran her hair fell out of its carefully coifed style. Her urgency tempered her thoughts, and she wasn't able to enjoy the open run through the farmland as she might have under different circumstances. Alys jumped over a log half-hidden by grass which a normal eye would never have seen and startled a bird hiding on the other side. It flew away from her, and she kept going, bursting into the Smith's house without announcing herself first. The door smacked against the wall behind it, causing the people within the cottage to jump.

Alys knew she looked a sight, with her hair wild, cheeks flushed pink, and slippers smeared with grass stains and soaked through from the rains the night before, but she took pride in the fact she was barely breathing hard.

"It's too late," Wolsey said with a sneer. "I've already signed the papers."

Alys's nostrils flared, but she kept her temper. The darkness of the room compared to the bright morning light had stopped her from seeing Mrs. Smith sobbing against her husband, and the smaller children looking fearful in the corner. "Let me see it," Alys demanded, holding out her hand for Wolsey to pass over the eviction papers.

He complied, smiling with self-satisfaction.

Alys ripped them in two, tossing the halves into the roaring fire. "You're discharged from your duties, permanently," she said coldly.

"You can't do that."

"You have twenty-four hours to pack your belongings and get off my land."

Wolsey drew himself up, nodding to the Smith family. "By law, they have to come with me."

"I don't think you comprehend what I'm saying. You have no power here. You are suspended of your responsibilities and any decisions you made within the last twelve hours are now void."

"Well see," Wolsey threatened, stalking out of the cottage.

"That went well," Alys proclaimed, metaphorically dusting her hands off. "Shall I make tea?"

"This is still our home?" Smith asked, patting his wife on the shoulder as she sobbed.

"Yes," Alys promised, filling the kettle with water and gingerly hanging it above the fire.

"And we still have our jobs?"

"Of course," she said. "Will you allow me to speak with your wife?"

"As yer ladyship wishes. Come on childr'n. We'll leave the women to their tea." Alys watched as he picked the youngest one up, almost missing what he said next. "Don't ya worry 'bout a thing. Lady Alys will fix it."

She only hoped she could live up to the faith the townspeople apparently had in her. "Mrs. Smith, I'd like to talk to you about your daughter," Alys said gently, taking the heavy iron kettle off the stove with a scrap of cloth between her skin and the hot metal. The still hardened calluses thickening the skin of her fingers kept her from dropping the kettle and boiling contents over the floor and her legs, but she still winced at the unfamiliar heat. Though it sometimes felt like yesterday, it had been a long time since her fingers had touched heated metal in her father's shop. Alys located the chamomile leaves by smell, dropping them into tin cups and pouring the boiling water over them. "I'm making you something to calm your nerves. Then we'll talk about whether there is anything my brother and I can do for your daughter."

Mrs. Smith sobbed, covering her mouth with her fists clutched around the cloth of her apron. Her words were muffled, but not difficult to hear. "You can find those witches that took her."

Alys sloshed the boiling water over the rim of the second cup. "What? I heard she ran away with the man of her dreams."

Mrs. Smith snorted. "That's right. The man of her dreams. Everyone could see she was fallin' for someone, but she never told them who he was. She was too embarrassed that they'd laugh at her."

"I don't understand." Alys placed the steaming cup in front of Mrs. Smith, but the mother didn't even glance at it.

"She was havin' strange dreams."

The cup cradled in Alys's hands jarred, water slopping over the rim and coating her fingers in chamomile. "Dreams of what?" Alys questioned softly, her words dampened by the blood rushing in her ears. She grew afraid, thinking of Risa.

"Love," Mrs. Smith said with a shrug. "Of a man she'd never met promising her the world. She told me 'bout them at first, laughing. But then she started to daydream 'nd act like she was in love. People started noticin'. There was no man. Not for real anyway."

"How do you know for sure?" Alys's knuckles were white around the cup.

"Because this isn't the first time it's happened. I warned her. I used ta tell her the story when she was little."

"What story," Alys said sharply.

"I warned her it had started again, but she laughed at me. Called me an old fool."

"Mrs. Smith!" Alys snapped. "What's started again?"

"My baby," the other woman sobbed. "They have my baby."

"Momma!" The second oldest daughter rushed into the room, the bouquet of early spring flowers clutched in her apron scattering to the floor. "Come to bed. You need to rest," she said, pulling her mother into her arms and speaking to Alys over her head. "We appreciate what you've done for us today, but you'll have to leave now."

Alys flinched with guilt, but kept her eyes steadily on the girl. "I have to know who has her. What's started again?"

"I can't help you. I have no use for fairytales. Ask Old Widow Andersen. Mom always said it was about her sister."

.xXx.

Alys approached the small cottage on the edge of the village carefully, trying not to catch her shoes on the thick thorny brambles. "Hello," she called out with the friendliest voice possibly, trying to squash down the irrational bubble of fear surfacing at the decaying ruins of last year's garden covering the front yard. She had visited the Old Widow Andersen on occasion with a basket of food from the kitchen, and each time she approached the house she remembered the old witch she had met years before. Alys thought it was foolish to affix the adjective old to the beginning of a title and use it as a comparison between the two, but before she had even met the woman who lived in this cottage, she had heard one of the children call her a witch. Children were always prone to such fancies. It was when adults believed them that the problems began.

"I know why you're here," a craggy old voice called from within the house. "Please, come in my dear."

"I'm sorry to intrude," Alys said, stepping through the creaking frame of the open door. The house was dim, but the open doorway let in a surprising amount of light so she was able to see despite the covered windows and lack of fire.

"Nonsense. Today isn't a day for niceties. Is it true? Was little Rose Smith taken last night? Well, don't just stand there like a virgin on her wedding night! Sit."

"Thank you," Alys said, smothering a nervous laugh as she lowered herself into a dusty chair. Harmless old woman, she reminded herself. Age and frankness did not make a witch. "As far as I know, it's true. I came to ask you about your sister, if you remember."

"That happened fifty long years ago. Life would have been easier if I could forget. We had known the legend then of course. It was a common tale around these parts, about the witches who came every fifty years to feed on the flesh of young girls. They wanted those who were in love, and they sent them dreams of romance. Then they came at night, stealing them from their beds. We laughed at the stories, you see, my sister and me. Fifty years is a long time for people to forget."

"What happened?" Alys asked, leaning closer. Once she was in the one-roomed house and having a conversation, it was easier to see this old woman as lonely rather than frightening. She had met real wickedness in this world, and the slightly musty smell in this house was not it.

"It started with the dreams. Elsa started bursting out into song and telling me about this man she would one day meet. She was so pretty, my sister. I've never seen anyone as beautiful. They go after the pretty girls, especially the ones who draw the attention of many a'male," the old woman told her, voice cracking as she spoke about Elsa. "We all thought she was being fanciful, until one night she was just gone."

"What makes you so sure its witches? Don't worry," Alys amended hastily, "I believe something evil took your sister, but I just want to know why you think it was witches. Why not fairies? Or changelings?"

"Because fifty years ago I saw them. It was a strangely warm spring, and Elsa had taken to sleeping alone by the window without any bedding. She claimed to be too hot at night. A noise woke me up, and when I looked over there were two old crones standing on either side of her, chanting. Then they disappeared. She was the first victim, but not the last."

"How many?" Alys asked. "Was there a pattern?"

"There wasn't so many in one place that a witch-hunt was formed. People were reluctant to point fingers. They were more likely to believe the stories of elopement."

"I've noticed," Alys said dryly.

"There were three that I noticed, all within the same month."

"So we can expect two more girls to disappear."

"Bless you, child," the old woman pronounced with tears in her eyes. "I've never met someone who just believed. If only we had someone like you when Elsa—"

"I've seen too many things to discredit this story as a fairytale." Alys stood. "Is there anyone else I could talk to?"

"In town there was a girl a few years older than my sister. She claimed she was the next target, but the witches never took her. I always assumed she was making it up. She wasn't pretty, you see. Not like you are."

"What's her name?"

"Edith. She was the daughter of the brewer, and never married. If she's still alive, they probably call her Old Spinster Edith." The old woman smiled at the joke, showing the gaps in her mouth where teeth had been.

"I'll go see her immediately. Thank you," Alys said, standing. "Is there anything I can do for you before I go?"

"Why are you so rushed? You seem worried," the old woman asked, her keen eyes taking Alys in. "You've been having dreams, haven't you?" she asked sadly.

Alys fled.

.xXx.

Alys returned to the castle late that afternoon, sore from her trip on horseback. She hadn't quite mastered the art of sitting in a saddle yet, and the half hour trip into town always left her far more tired than it should. She slipped quietly through the kitchen door, pausing on the threshold with a pervading sense that something was wrong. The smell of cooking food was missing, but she had expected that since both the cook and her apprentice were missing from duty. What Alys hadn't anticipated was the complete lack of sound in the normally bustling room. It was like she had left the outside world at mid-afternoon and somehow flashed forward through time to the middle of the night. The kitchen was dark without a fire, and Alys rubbed her arms against a chill which had settled in her heart. She didn't know whether the old widow's last words were true or not, but fear did not always know rationality. When it came right down to it, she had reason to be scared. She was moderately pretty, or at least clean, she was having strange dreams, and most damning of all, she was in love.

A chill went down her spine, and she knew that she would spend another night sleepless.

Quickly, unable to shake the feeling of wrongness and foreboding almost echoing in the silence of the room, Alys made up a platter of bread, cheese, and meat from what was left in the larder. She could tell from the slim pickings of what was left that most of the staff had been through it already, trying to ensure that they had a meal for them and their family without the cook making a side-stew or soup for them to eat. Alys didn't mind if food disappeared from her kitchen; she had gone hungry before, and would not wish that kind of pain on any of the people in her village. She knew she couldn't save the world, but she was slowly beginning to realize that there were things she could do to help those around her with a few simple actions, or in this case, inactions.

Alys made sure that the amount of meat on the plate was twice that of everything else. Though he was getting better at eating human food, Alys knew that Selendrile would rather eat things that had once been alive, even if he complained about the meats being overcooked and ruined by curing spices. She wished she could go out and catch some small game to please and surprise him for supper, but the rabbit incident was too fresh on her mind and she wouldn't be making that mistake any time soon. He likely spent the nights while she was sleeping deep in the woods, satisfying his craving for raw flesh.

It made her stomach churn just to think about it.

She exited the kitchen with a sense of relief, hesitating in the doorway to the dining hall. She hated that room, Alys decided, bypassing it with a sense of relief that she wouldn't have to have another stilted conversation with Selendrile tonight. They could just relax, she decided, heading into the sitting room with their meal. It was almost time for him to "wake up", with the sun hinging on the crest of the horizon, and she entered the sitting room wondering if he would join her early tonight. This room, too, had the chill of spring air, and for a moment Alys couldn't quite put her finger on why that seemed off to her.

Then she realized that usually by sundown one of the staff would have seen that the window was closed and there was a warming fire blazing in the hearth. She crossed the room and closed the shutters, drawing the heavy curtains closed in front of it. She wondered what it meant that the house was empty as she looked for the tinderbox. She wasn't completely useless at these mundane tasks like a woman of her station might have been, but it had been a long time since the days she had to fend for herself.

"Where is everyone?"

Startled, Alys fumbled with the tinderbox and it fell to the floor with a clatter. "Selendrile," she exclaimed. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Why are you the only person in the castle? We're not paying the servants to be absent."

"I don't know," Alys told him honestly. "I just got back from town, myself."

"Why were you in town?" he asked suspiciously.

"It's a long story," Alys told him, kneeling to light the fire with her back to him. She was about to strike the flint when he grabbed her arm with an unyielding, but not bruising, grip.

"Did you follow him?"

"Who?" she asked, genuinely confused.

"Sir Guy."

Alys laughed bitterly, wrenching her arm out of his grasp. The tinder flew from her hand, landing in a nearby bucket with an unhealthy – for a flint – splash. "I told you it was a long story, not that I wouldn't tell it to you. I can honestly say that I haven't thought of Sir Guy since learning you didn't kill him."

"I should have," Selendrile muttered darkly.

"We have worse things to worry about." Alys stood, looking down at the tinderbox at the bottom of the water bucket. She sighed, looking at Selendrile crossly. "I want a fire," she said moodily. "I'm tired, and I'm cold, and I'm scared. Is a fire too much to ask for?"

He watched her intensely for a moment. "I'll be right back," Selendrile told her, though she could see he would rather ask questions first.

©RelenaFanel.Nov9.2007


	6. Chapter 6

**Tempting the Dragon**

_Chapter 6_

When Selendrile returned, Alys had herself arranged on the animal pelts laid out before the fireplace. The tray of food was balanced on her lap, and she picked at a piece of bread, watching as Selendrile made a fire with easily movements. "It's been a while since we've done this," she mentioned to him as he arranged himself beside her.

"Argued?" he asked, selecting a piece of meat off the tray. His disgusted sneer was more out of habit than it was a critique of the food.

"Talked without anyone to overhear," she responded with a hidden smile.

"That reminds me. Where IS everyone? Usually Wolsey oversees the servants strictly."

"Ohh," Alys pronounced, finally understanding. "I fired him today. He probably retaliated by giving the servants the week off, or something." Her words were flippant, but she was rapidly seeing that this could open a whole new set of problems for them.

"You fired him?" Selendrile asked, his second piece of meat held in his hand. He turned his upper body to face her instead of the fire. "I told you he was an important part of the staff."

"He made me uncomfortable," Alys explained. "He looked at me like I was nothing better than one of his servant girls."

"You were still rather rough around the edges when we arrived. I'm not surprised he could see through the charade."

Alys stared at him, the meal forgotten on her lap. "How can you not understand what I mean? He used the girls. He forced them into—" Alys cut off when Selendrile's eyes grew wide. "You honestly didn't know?"

"He made you uncomfortable?" Selendrile asked, echoing her words as his eyes narrowed threateningly. They glinted gold in the firelight, proving the danger he kept carefully under human wraps.

"Yes."

"And you didn't tell me?" The words were casual, but Alys could hear the strain on his voice.

"I assumed you were aware of everything going on in the castle. I'm sorry. After what he tried to do today, I just couldn't take it anymore."

"What did he try to do?" Selendrile questioned sharply, suspicion heavy on his tone. Alys immediately put her hand on his arm to let him know he was jumping to conclusions and it had nothing to do with the terrible things he suspected.

"That," Alys pronounced, "is the start of the long story I mentioned. He tried to evict the Smiths this morning after Mrs. Smith told him she couldn't come in to work. Her daughter's missing, and there's a rumour going around that she ran away with Sir Guy."

"Sir Guy ran away with the cook's daughter?"

"No," Alys said impatiently. "I'll get to that. Wolsey decided to get back at me – oh, the night before I had threatened to tell you he had impregnated the poultry maid – by evicting the Smiths under the guise that their family had brought shame to ours, or something like that. It probably had some basis in the rumour that Sir Guy was here to marry me."

"That man was more trouble than he was worth," Selendrile said darkly.

"Don't be bitter just because I didn't hate him as much as you wanted me to. I wouldn't have married him. What was I talking about? Oh. Wolsey. Long story short, I ripped up the notice of eviction and fired him. Wolsey isn't even an issue any more. The issue is that Rosa Smith did not run away with Sir Guy."

"Who'd she run away with," Selendrile asked, lounging backwards and idly popping a piece of meat in his mouth. He was starting to enjoy their little gossip tete-a-tete.

"She didn't run away," Alys said gravely. "She was taken."

Selendrile sat straight. "Taken? By what?"

"Witches. There's an old folktale in the area. Every fifty years, during an uncharacteristically warm spring, the witches choose their victims and send dreams of love and romance to them. Once the girls are enchanted, they are stolen from their beds and never seen again. I talked to someone who witnessed her sister being kidnapped fifty years ago, and she said the story was present even then."

"Witches," Selendrile mused thoughtfully. "It's possible."

They were both silent for a few moments. "I've been having dreams," Alys blurted out.

Selendrile dropped the slice of meat in his hand and stared at her with concerned horror. "What?"

"They aren't of love," she amended. "They're of Risa."

Selendrile opened his mouth to speak, and then hesitated. "Are you sure they aren't of love? I probably wouldn't worry, then. Witches spells are usually very specific."

"So if I'm not dreaming the type of dream the fairytales say I should be, then I'm not the next target?" She stared at him for his answer, knowing that if anyone would be able to tell her the truth on the matter, it was him. For some reason, he wasn't doing a very good job making her believe him. He might look angelic to the eye, but Selendrile could also lie without remorse, even though he had no reason to do so this time. What was more likely was he could try to assure her of truths he wasn't sure of himself.

Selendrile paused before talking again. "Yes. Exactly. But maybe you should tell me about them anyway."

This time, Alys was the one hedging. "They're just nightmares of Risa and death."

"That's it?" Selendrile didn't sound convinced.

"That's it," Alys echoed. "But even if I'm not the next target, we still need to do something about these girls."

Selendrile went back to his supper, shrugging his unconcern. "There isn't much that can be done."

"Not much?" She questioned sharply. "You just don't want to stick your neck out!" Alys said hotly, throwing a piece of cheese at him.

"Of course I don't," he responded, his strange purple eyes gleaming. "Every day we stay here it becomes more dangerous for us. If I looked into this I would get more results as one of the preternatural brethren and that could draw the attention of some things which were best left alone."

"And if you don't, more girls will disappear," Alys pointed out rationally, trying to speak to his sense of responsibility. "In another fifty years more will disappear."

"Don't guilt me, Alys," he warned.

"If you don't do something, I'll solve it myself," Alys threatened, playing on his need to protect her since her last tactic obviously didn't work.

Selendrile sighed. "You make things incredibly difficult."

"It's part of my charm. Now, let's go over what I've learned today. I talked to a Widow Andersen, and she identified her sister's attackers as witches. I'm assuming that means whatever it is looks human. Can you think of anything else that would steal young women? I thought changelings."

"They usually go after children." Selendrile frowned, biting his lower lip as he thought it through. "But I agree with you. Blaming witches for things like this is too common. Probably best not to discount them entirely, but it's possibly a good bet we're dealing with something else."

"But what?"

"Fairies like young women, and I suppose the romance angle could fit in as well, but I've never heard of them actually entering someone's house and stealing their victim. How accurate is this woman's story?"

Alys shrugged. "How accurate is any story? Maybe Rose really did run away with Sir Guy."

"Sir Guy doesn't strike me as the type who would settle for a kitchen maid. He only goes after the best."

"He wanted to marry me," Alys pointed out, "and I'm hardly the best fit for his requirements."

"No you aren't," Selendrile said casually, as though he hadn't gotten territorial the night before. "But you were very good at misleading him into thinking you were."

"Hey!" Alys frowned. "I didn't know I was impressing him with the act. I was just trying to find the information you asked for."

"It wasn't entirely useful."

"It might have been if you hadn't reacted so badly. Now you have a dragon slayer out there angry at you. Does not sound like an ideal situation to me."

"Ah, but he doesn't know I'm a dragon."

Alys raised an eyebrow. "I bet right now he's thinking that if he could kill a dragon and survive, that you should be a piece of cake. You wounded his pride in so many ways I can barely begin to list them."

"Alys—"

"Here you're supposed to be this scrawny, sickly, pampered lord and you not only denied him the hand of your sister in marriage, but also bashed his head in against a wall with your bare hands."

"I'm scrawny?"

"I'm just saying I wouldn't be surprised if he came back for revenge," she pointed out.

"And you."

"I hope not. There are enough kidnapping plots going around for me to worry about." Alys looked at the supper plate, only finding a few stray crumbs of bread left. She picked up the tray, uncrossing her ankles so she could stumble to her feet and put it away. Selendrile placed his hand over hers on the floor, gently anchoring her.

"Are you worried?" he asked.

"I fit most of the criteria," Alys pointed out. "I'm pretty, I'm having strange dreams, and I'm—" she trailed off, looking at him.

Selendrile smiled, leaning forward and kissing her softly. His hand tangled in her curling brown hair as he tilted her head closer to him. His lips were gentle against hers and Alys sighed subtly as she pressed closer to him.

"Well, well, well. Isn't this an interesting sight?"

Alys and Selendrile jumped away from each other, Alys wiping her mouth on the back of her hand before realizing it screamed a testament to her guilt. "What do you want?" she demanded, gathering her backbone and reminding herself that it was times of stress when she excelled. "I fired you, remember?"

"I think that might have been a mistake, don't you? I think a lot of people would be interested in the sordid thing going on behind closed doors in the castle." When Alys did respond, he continued. "You see, I was going to appeal to your gentle nature and show you how someone with real power handles things, but now I see you for what you really are."

"What's that?" Alys asked coldly, exchanging a look with Selendrile. He was remaining surprisingly quiet, his amethyst eyes a molten gold with his fury.

"A whore."

"Careful," Selendrile warned.

"And a witch."

Alys chuckled mirthlessly, placing a restraining hand on Selendrile's arm. Beneath her fingers his muscles were taut, stressed with his need to take care of the threat. "I repeat, Wolsey, what do you want? Your job?"

"I wouldn't work for your ilk, even if you begged me to come back."

"I'm not even going to ask," Alys cut him off.

Wolsey gathered his indignation around him like eau de self-righteousness. "I think we can come to another arrangement. You and your 'brother' need to keep this debasement a secret, and I need—"

"Nothing," Selendrile inserted. "You will not blackmail me. You will not threaten me. And you will not say a word of this to anyone. In return I'll let you live."

"Selendrile—" Alys cautioned.

"She's right. I shouldn't even do that. You came here expecting Alys to be by herself. For that alone I would kill you."

Alys watched, chilled by Wolsey's expression of astonishment but not the indignant anger of the innocent, and was not surprised to learn that Selendrile had been correct.

"Get off my land," Selendrile threatened coldly, gaining his feet quicker than was humanly possible and advancing on his former employee with a predatory nature. It was times like these that Alys never understood how people looked at him and saw a human. His purple fey eyes flashed hauntingly in the firelight, and the waves of promised danger rode off his form, causing Wolsey to shake with nerves. Alys could feel the threat in the air, and taste the meat of Wolsey's fear. She shivered, bringing her arms up around her upper body, and knew that the scent of prey was probably irresistible to a dragon.

Wolsey bolted.

Selendrile advanced back to her. She watched from the floor with hooded eyes, wondering what prey he had in his sights now. Alys knew it was her. He kneeled in front of her, his mouth fusing sharply with hers, a combination of pressing lips and nipping teeth, as he pushed her back onto the rugs laid out of the floor. Alys submitted to him, threading her fingers through his long silky hair as she kissed him back. "Mmmgh," she moaned, turning her head away from him as he pressed his knee between her thighs, trapping her legs within the confines of her dress. "We can't do this."

"Alys," he breathed against her neck.

"No, you know we can't." She stayed motionless for a second, waiting for him to convince her otherwise. He didn't even look at her, busy staring at a spot on the furs above her head. Alys sighed, flipping them over in a move she had last used in training. It elicited a slight smirk from Selendrile. She scrambled away from him, putting distance between them. "I think I should go to bed."

"We'll never be finished," he warned. "You'll have to face me sometime."

"But not tonight," Alys promised.

.xXx.

"He's gorgeous," Risa said, leaning back against the tree with her legs spread out in front of her. Alys was sitting a few inches away from her, turned at a slight angle due to the circumference of the trunk. Rough bark scraped against her bare arms, and the ground beneath her hands was dry. She couldn't feel a drop of moisture in the air, and for some reason that bothered her more than the threatening turns these dreams always took.

"Yes," Alys agreed, "but he's always been so adamant about not finding humans attractive and keeping me at a distance. Then he'll suddenly just give me this look and kiss me."

"A look?" Risa asked curiously.

"Yes. A look. I can't explain it."

Rise snorted. "Don't lie to your best friend. You know exactly what the look says."

Alys glanced sideways. "I don't want to talk about it."

"You won't deal with him and you don't want to talk to me, and you think he's difficult?"

"I think life is difficult," Alys told her.

"You want difficult? Wait until you die. From what I hear it might not be that long away. You should be more careful."

Alys snorted. "Are you warning me about my own life now? What happened to 'watch out for Selendrile'?" Alys asked, mocking slightly. "Is he no longer in danger, or have you just gotten tired of the whole gloom-n-doom persona?"

"You shouldn't take me lightly," Risa snapped. "I won't always be here for you or your gorgeous dragon."

"Why are you even here now?" Alys stared at the sun shining in through the overhead canopy of leaves. Conversations like this made her see her best friend and not a ghost, and she missed having a companion she could joke about things like this with. It surprised her when she realized that she and Risa never really had giggling conversations about boys and sex like all teenage girls had with their friends.

"It's not time for you to know that yet."

"Does it have to do with the dreams Elsa and Rose had before they were taken?"

Risa laughed. "Do I have long blond hair, purple eyes, and killer shoulders?" she asked. "Or, in other words, do I look like the man of your dreams?"

"No."

"Am I whispering sweet nothings into your ears? Am I seducing you in many different ways and making you screa—"

"I get the point," Alys interrupted with a blush.

"Whoo," Risa exclaimed, fanning herself with her hand. "Just the thought of dreaming of Selendrile is enough to make a girl sweat."

"You're welcome to them while you're biding your time waiting for me to fall asleep."

"What makes you think I'm doing that?" Risa asked, slouching down so the moss beneath the tree was a mattress for her body.

"You're dead," Alys pointed out. "What else are you going to do all day?"

"I was thinking of taking up basket weaving, but obviously that's a waste of my time. I need to find myself a hot, young, golden dragon. I wonder, can he control what he looks like? Size, for instance, if you know what I mean." Risa raised her eyebrows lecherously and giggled.

"Why don't you ask him," Alys suggested.

"Why don't you ask him for me? Or better yet, don't. Give him a chance to show you."

"Risa!"

"Of course, maybe he doesn't have to. Do you remember the whole bull thing?"

Alys frowned, finally turning to face Risa instead of looking at her from the corner of her eye. "I was almost dead from fever when we had that conversation."

"But you obviously remember it."

"I do, but I didn't think it was real."

Risa laughed. "It was no more real than this is."

.xXx.

When Alys awoke, it was still dark, sky the midnight blue of the approaching dawn. She slipped out of bed, pulling her thick dressing gown around her shoulders. The air was moist and warm, signaling an unusually high temperature for this time of the year. Alys moved out of her bedroom, her bare feet silent on the castle floor as she headed towards the exit to the outer battlements closest to Selendrile's room. The door opened easily beneath her hand, and she walked into the early morning air with a sense of freshness. The stones were cool underneath her feet, and she sat on the edge of the roof overlooking the small village. She loved the town, she decided, seeing a few lit candles of early risers preparing meals for the day. If she could watch over it and protect it always, she would.

She'd just rather be alive to do it.

Spring birds began to chirp, singing their mating songs in the bud scented air. Alys took a deep breath, feeling the evil and the fear from the previous day wash away. She inhaled then exhaled in a tandem which helped her relax and rest more than her sleep had. With a giggle, she held out her hand to one of the nearby birds as it flittered around, cheeping and dipping towards her shoulder playfully. To her surprise, it alighted easily on her fingers, the tiny talons scraping against her skin gently. She stared at the diminutive thing, trying to look in its eyes. It twittered at her, spinning a tale with soft singing. Alys was enraptured.

"Selendrile, is that you?" she asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously once the bird stopped talking to her and stared.

"No," he said with a laugh from somewhere behind her.

Alys spun rapidly, the small bird scrambling into flight as she moved. He was lounging impertinently against the side of the building, a pair of pants half buttoned over his hips the only clothing on him. His bare feet were spread, and his hair was tussled.

"You should be inside," she told him, rising from the side of the wall with ease. Her peace was ruined by the overwhelmed rapid beat of her heart. "The sun will rise shortly."

"And miss you having a heart to heart with some poor animal because you thought it was me?" he teased, pushing away from the wall and giving her a hand to help her down from the slight ridge.

Alys blushed. "I wasn't saying anything to it. I just thought it was acting too strangely to be a bird."

Selendrile brought his hand up to her cheek, his palm hot against her fresh skin. His fingers ghosted in a caress down to her mouth, kissing her with the gentle touch. "I love you," he said softly, mouth next to her temple as he kissed her forehead tenderly.

Alys awoke, startled and panting, her heart beating in residual joy from his words, but also in terror.

A dream of love.

©RelenaFanel.December 23.2007

This chapter makes me smile so much, and I thought it was a perfect gift for the holidays. Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah!


	7. Chapter 7

**Tempting the Dragon**

_Chapter 7_

* * *

A.N. - Ever have one of those moments where time has just seemed to have gotten away from you? I just did. I hadn't written much through January - March (it happens every year) and I suddenly looked to see when the last time I updated this story was and it was on Christmas Eve - and I thought 'almost 4 months!' with a sense of disbelief. So here it is, with my appologies. Thanks to Trumpet-Geek for Betaing for me.

Quick Summary: Witches are stealing young girls from the town Alys and Selendrile have settled in, first sending them dreams of true love to put them under a spell and then taking them in the middle of the night. Alys knows she's been having strange dreams, but they're of her dead best friend Risa instead of "love." She makes an enemy of Wolsey, and then he catches Selendrile kissing her. Finally, Alys has had a dream of Selendrile saying "I love you" and it frightens her.

Without further ado, I give you Selendrile:

* * *

The day after Alys found out about the possibility of witches stealing young, enamored girls from their bed was one of the busiest Alys had experienced in a long time. She had to round up all of her employees and promise them that they still had a job, even if she had fired their boss. She then had to give the ones who were assured the rest of the week off the choice of staying home as Wolsey had promised or coming back to work for twice their regular wages. She wasn't surprised when all the disputes were finalized to find that they were still woefully understaffed for the remainder of the week. She was surprised, however, to find Mrs. Smith back to her kitchen duties.

"You didn't have to come in," Alys said kindly as she ensured that the gamekeeper had delivered the hunt for supper's meal. It felt like the management of the household was crumbling around her ears, but she knew that once she got a hang of her new responsibilities and the unrest caused by Wolsey's parting shot were finished, that the every-day routine of the house would remain intact.

"Being at home and grieving is doing me no good," Mrs. Smith said. "I have to stay strong for my little girl."

Alys nodded her agreement, but she didn't share the same hope. Rose Smith was not coming back to her family.

That was the only point of the day Alys was able to dwell on the danger. She spent the rest of it watching as the servants only scrambled to work when she entered the room, and some of them didn't even pretend. She had been so sure she could manage on her own, but now she was starting to think that they needed to hire a replacement for their butler, and soon, before she went nuts from being trapped indoors all day.

"I'm exhausted," Alys said with a sigh, slipping into her chair at the dining room table moments before supper was laid out before them. Selendrile buttered a hot roll and handed it to her, but Alys merely looked at it, her eyes unable to focus.

"We can't get Wolsey back," he reminded her.

Alys pushed her plate aside, putting her head on the table and looked at Selendrile sideways. In that moment, she didn't care if she wasn't acting like a proper young lady. "I know," she mumbled, breaking off a piece of her roll and chewing on it.

"You do look tired," Selendrile observed, piling his plate with meat and other fatty products. "Bad dreams?" he asked lightly, though his attention focused on her response.

Alys blushed.

"Oh," he said meaningfully. "What was it about?"

Alys narrowed her eyes at him. He was fooling himself if he thought she would tell him, especially after he inferred it was about him.

"Don't worry," he told her, "the walls don't have ears at the moment. I have to find out what these dreams are of, or I won't be able to tell what the exact spell is."

"Risa," Alys told him, lifting her head off the table and grabbing some of the early spring greens from a bowl. They tasted like the weeds she was pretty sure they were. "She was teasing me."

"About?"

"You."

"What else?" Selendrile asked, his mouth stuffed with cooked rabbit.

"She's thinking about taking up basket weaving," Alys said impatiently. "That's it."

"You're lying to me," Selendrile said neutrally. "That wouldn't have made you blush."

"You're right," Alys told him boldly. "She also said you were hung like a bull."

Selendrile grinned, his eyes glinting as he held her gaze.

"And she wanted to find out if you could control your size while changing." Alys watched Selendrile closely, waiting for him to react. "Are you blushing?"

"Ah, no. I can't."

Alys nodded. "I also had a second dream."

Selendrile took a drink of wine, avoiding her eyes. Alys thought embarrassing herself like that might be worth it if she could bring him down with her.

"You said 'I love you' to me," she said in a rush, jolting to her feet in alarm as Selendrile choked on his drink. She hit him soundly on the back as he coughed. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"Fine," he said, waving her away. "It just went down wrong."

Alys slid back into her seat, trying to hide the slight smile on her lips by taking another bite of her cooling roll. Went down wrong, indeed, she thought, enjoying his discomfort. "I'm sure it means nothing," she assured him. "It probably isn't even something sent by magic. I just went to bed thinking about our last conversation and worrying about 'love dreams'. It was just my subconscious getting jumbled."

"Alys," Selendrile interrupted, gulping down wine. "Stop it. I understand what a dream means."

"Still," she said softly, "you look rather uncomfortable right now."

"I need some air," he told her, rising from the table. He brushed down the front of his shirt, glaring with distaste as his greasy fingers left a streak over the linen. He strode from the room quickly, his boots heavily treading against the stone floor. Alys watched him leave, her amusement fading to reveal a heavy heart. A moment later Selendrile stuck his head back through the door, his shining gold locks tumbling over his shoulder. "Are you coming?" he asked, holding out his hand for her to join him.

"Of course!" Alys exclaimed, rushing to her feet before he could change his mind. On her way out of the dining hall, she grabbed the shawl she had used earlier to inspect the ice room in the cellar. The air was cool and crisp, the only illumination were the stars twinkling graciously in the midnight black sky and the quarter moon. Alys inhaled the air of a spring night, feeling the strength of life as it struggled against the frosty temperatures. She was kept warm by the knowledge that it had been a long time since she and Selendrile explored the nighttime together.

"It's beautiful out," Alys breathed, stepping over a small, foot-shaped hole in the damp earth with ease. Selendrile shot her a curious look. She followed him down the hill and into the village, not even thinking to question him as he skirted the cottages to arrive at the edge of the forest. Alys grinned mischievously, hiking up the skirt to her dress so her legs were unencumbered. With a quick, challenging look to Selendrile, she bolted into the forest, her feet flying over the familiar forest floor as they did so many times before during the daylight hours when she needed to get away. She used her sensory memory instead of sight to lead her through and over familiar landmarks, surprised to find that she could distinguish a few larger shapes surprisingly well in the darkness of the trees. Alys ran as though the thing chasing her was not a dragon in human form, but really a demon intent on killing her, and Selendrile did nothing to disabuse her notion. He stayed a step behind her, though it was obvious that if he let himself run free he would have left her far in the distance.

Alys jumped over a sunken log, veering into a sharp right as she avoided a small, but dangerous decline which she had trouble navigating on her sunlit sojourns. She finally burst through the thicket of trees, the branches in the dark like grasping skeletal fingers and witches' bony and misshapen forms. Alys collapsed onto the soggy moss of her clearing beneath the largest tree, laughing breathlessly as she panted and stared up at Selendrile as he watched her closely. "Doesn't it feel good to be free?" she asked, rolling onto her back and watching him back.

If anything, he looked even more disturbed. "What was that?" he asked quietly.

Alys shivered in pleasure as the last of the adrenaline pumped through her brain, allowing her to drift for a moment between the high of energy and total exhaustion. "Fun," she said simply. "You remember what that is, don't you?"

"Don't," he warned. "You didn't falter once, though I know your limited human sight couldn't see the dangers."

Alys brushed his question off with a breezy laugh. "I'm familiar with the area. I come here almost every day. I could do it with my eyes closed."

Selendrile looked like he was about to argue, but instead he sat next to her and let his head loll back in relaxation, his long golden hair trailing along the clearing floor. "When all this is over, if you want to stay here I can set you up at the castle, or one of the village houses if you prefer."

Without looking at him, Alys placed her hand over his and squeezed his fingers reassuringly. "I don't want to stay," she promised. "Sometimes I think this clearing is the only good part about this place."

"I know you're adapting," he told her. "I can see it in the loyalty and protectiveness you have to the townsfolk. You're starting to believe that you're really their lady."

"So long as we're living here," she responded, "I am their lady. Isn't that what you've been trying to convince me of for months?"

"Yes," he responded quietly. "Would you have been happier with Sir Guy?"

Alys groaned. "Not this again," she accused him, rolling over onto her stomach and bracing herself on her elbows. Her fingers toyed with the hem of his white linen shirt. "Do you really need to hear me say that I don't think I can be happy anymore without you?"

"Maybe I should have left you a long time ago."

"You did," she reminded him softly. She sighed, not because of their conversation, but out of exhaustion.

"Why don't you sleep," he suggested gently. "I'll sit here and make sure that nothing creeps out of the woods and abducts you." He smiled as though it was a joke, but they both knew that there was nothing closer to the truth.

"I'm not sleepy," she insisted, smothering a yawn. Despite her words, she stretched on the mossy ground, feeling the damp forest floor yield beneath her body. Alys curled her arm beneath her head, turning so she could look at him lounging beside her. "I'm having trouble with the staff," she explained. "They won't listen to me like they did Wolsey. They know I'm nice and kind hearted, and they think I won't say anything about being taken advantage of."

"You're too opinionated for that," he agreed. "You need to establish the fact you're the boss. Start off strong and they'll respect you for it."

"I thought I did," she said simply. "I fired their last boss."

"You might not have liked him, but some of them did. Those who didn't still feared and respected him. Compared to that, you're like a vacation."

"Do you think I need to fire someone else?"

"Maybe you should think of something else."

Alys thought about it for a moment, and then smiled. "If I showed them my knives, they might respect me."

Selendrile snorted. "If you did that, they'd either fear you or laugh you out of your own house, and then you'd be forced to show them exactly what you can do with a blade. Then they'd definitely fear you."

"I don't want to be feared, and I don't want anyone to know that I have some skills beside needlework."

"You can't do needlework," Selendrile pointed out.

Alys grunted. "You know what I mean."

"If you wanted to start fresh, then why do you come out here to practice almost every day?"

Alys raised her eyebrows in surprise. "And let my techniques go rusty? I can't afford to do that, especially around you."

"You think you're in danger around me?" he asked with a sense of curiosity, shifting her so that her head was pillowed against his thigh.

"I'm always in danger," Alys pointed out, her fingers curling around the material of his shirt again. "It comes with the territory." She yawned, her toes curling as she stretched her tired limbs again. "I don't know what would have happened to me if you weren't around," she admitted.

"You would have married one of the boys in your village," he told her, his fingers toying with a lock of her hair. "You'd be pregnant with your second child."

"I would have died in childbirth with my first," she told him, on the cusp of sleep. "My father told me I'm shaped like my mother."

x.x.x

Alys awoke the next morning after a dreamless sleep to find herself curled against the dry silky scales of Selendrile's neck. She smiled in her sleep-state and nuzzled closer, causing a soft sigh to vibrate through his throat. The sun was beating down on the top of her head, but she couldn't bring herself to care about the wasting day when she had woken next to him in the first time in years like she had before they moved into the castle and assumed the mantle of someone else's life.

Finally, she rolled away from him, grinning as he protested in his sleep in the form of a dissatisfied grunt. She would have told him that she was needed at the castle or they would surely notice she was gone, but she knew there was no point trying to talk to him while he was sleeping. Any other noise foreign to the forest would trigger him awake and aware within moments, but he had acclimated himself to her presence. She was pretty sure it was a compliment. Anything short of kicking him and screaming 'fire' would have him deeply unaware of her for at least the next few hours.

"I'll be back later," she promised anyway, smiling fondly at his monstrous form taking up practically her entire clearing. Instead of running back to the castle, she headed towards the main road leading into town, bending to pick up flowers as she came to them. By the time she reached the Smiths' property, she had a large bundle in her arms.

"Good morning!" she called out to Farmer Smith as she walked by, pausing for a moment to make it seem as though she had nothing to hide. The last thing she needed was to have tongues wagging about her being out all night. "Aren't these flowers lovely?"

Smith took off his hat to pay respect to her presence.

"How are the crops coming this year?" she asked.

"Splendidly, ma'am," he responded. "We'll have a good supply of maize this year."

"That's excellent," Alys responded. "Did you plant those potatoes his lordship suggested?"

"Beggin' your pardon, my lady, but I've been a farmer for years and my father before me, and his father before him, and his father's father, and—"

"I get the point," Alys interrupted with amusement.

"And I ain't never heard of potaters."

Alys laughed, not correcting his pronunciation of the tuber. "I haven't either," she said with a wink. "But Selendrile seems to think they're some kind of miracle crop. Maybe someone can plant a few to appease him, for our table only, of course."

Smith inclined his hat again. "Of course, my lady."

"Thank you Smith," Alys called out, already walking away with her bouquet of flowers and a slight shake of her head. Selendrile should know better than to try to influence tenants so set in their ways they didn't even remember who started their habits. What was the old saying? You could lead a horse to water but you couldn't make it drink. Well, you could lead a farmer to new crops, but you couldn't make him plant them.

Well, technically she could, especially since Wolsey was no longer around to contradict any orders she gave, but they wouldn't be happy about it.

Alys approached the house from the front, pausing every now and then to call out to one of the tenants and ask after their families. By the time she got to the front doors to the castle, the sun was high and hot in the sky.

"Good morning Catherine," Alys said with a sunny smile, handing the maid her bouquet of flowers. "Could you arrange these and put them in my room? It's such a lovely day, isn't it? Oh! And some for the dining hall, as well, please." Catherine began to walk towards the kitchens.

"Oh!" Alys exclaimed again. "Catherine, would you also please inform the staff that I would like to see them lined up for inspection by the time I get back downstairs?"

Alys turned away with a grin still on her face and headed up to her rooms for a quick freshening up. She splashed her face with water and rearranged her hair, but left the dress on. It wasn't odd for her to wear the same clothing two days in a row, but it was strange if she changed partway through the day for no reason whatsoever. Humming a tune, she spun around on her toes and came face-to-face with a huge vase of flowers. Behind the arrangement, Catherine was observing her with an odd expression on her face.

"Did you sleep well last night?" the maid asked.

"Very," Alys affirmed, taking a whiff of the flowers. Her sleep was actually what had put her in such a good mood. "Don't these smell delightful?" Alys smelled the flowers again, looking sideways as she realized Catherine was still hovering beside her. "Was there something else?"

The servant looked uncertain. "No."

"Good," Alys said. "Is the staff ready for their inspection?"

"I let them know to pass on the word."

"Great," Alys said with a smile, this one more cunning than the whimsical ones. "Run along and tell them I'll be down in five minutes. I want them lined up the way Wolsey used to do it, with head of staff first, followed by everyone beneath them. I want to see as much of the household as possible."

Catherine bobbled a curtsey and left. Alys sat in her favorite chair, looking at the vibrant hues in her flowers as she waited for her people to assemble and mentally rehearsed what she wanted to say. Judging her time was up, Alys stood from her chair and went downstairs, keeping her head held high as she moved down each step. The waiting staff had their eyes glued to her, judging her every move and curiously wondering why they were being gathered and disrupting the flow of work.

"Good morning," Alys said, addressing them from an elevated status of a few stairs up, deliberately making sure they all had a good view of her and had to look up in order to see her. It was symbolic of her position to them, as well as a good strategy for giving a speech. "As you are aware, I fired my steward. I realize that some of you may have liked Wolsey just as well as some of you hated him. The man had many faults, including the one which lead to his dismissal, but I will not deny that he ran a good household. I thought about finding a replacement for him, or simply taking over his duties myself, but I have realized that the best possible way to organize such an event without losing efficiency in the process is to simply promote from within."

There was a general murmur among the crowd. Alys clapped her hands to regain attention.

"This is not an odd practice. What possibly could defy conventions is the way I plan to do so. I will be evaluating each head of household over the next week to see if I like any of them for the job. I may not. I will also be evaluating them to see if they should continue on in their position or if I should replace them. I would like to see initiative from all members of the staff, as this is your chance to prove yourself regardless of your current spot on the staff."

As the staff stared at her with varying degrees of hostility, Alys tried to take note of those who also looked interested in her plan or openly ambitious. They were the ones to watch, either because they would prove their worth or attempt to trick her into believing they were hard workers when really they were just pretending for the week. Alys knew that she was opening an entire tournament of internal power struggle games, and she smiled softly to herself as she watched plans unfold in each of their minds. "I'd like the current heads of each part of the household to step forward," Alys commanded, watching as the first person in each row took a step towards her. "The rest of you may go back to your duties."

Hours later, Alys had finished interviewing her current leaders, finding out the specifics of each job of every person on staff and creating a detailed list. She hadn't finished the process yet, but her hand was stained with ink and her quill worn down to a nub. She had accidentally-on-purpose mentioned to one of the servants – one who she knew was a notorious gossip – that she had spies watching and reporting who was working and who was not. It wasn't the truth, but she figured by the end of the week half of them would be snitching on each other anyway. Now, though, it enabled her to slip away without everyone falling back into the lax routine the household had been going through since Wolsey left.

This time she didn't run through the trees as she approached the clearing in the forest. She was careful not to make a sound with each step, moderating her breathing to a low tempo which was imperceptible even to her own ears. She liked to think that she was silently moving through the forest, but with Selendrile's sharp ears it was unlikely that he would miss her approach. Alys was hyper-aware of her surroundings, the shadows within the trees falling in familiar patterns and shifting in the mid-day breeze. Her ears picked up a whisper on the wind before her eyes noticed the shape moving through the tree branches above her head as they were reflected by the shade on the forest floor. Another slightly-off shuffle reached her ears and she tensed, reaching down for the knife strapped inside her soft kid boots and spinning in one sharp movement to face whatever was coming at her from above.

She didn't get her weapon up in time, and he effortlessly knocked it from her hand as they both tumbled into the brush. She was up immediately, crouching on all fours as she took in his wild golden hair as he spun on her, lashing out with his foot. Alys rolled away, springing to her feet with her knife firmly clenched in her fist.

"You've gotten rusty," he observed, going in low and tackling her to the ground again. He used the weapon against her, having the advantage because he knew she wouldn't use it on him and would avoid cutting either of them at any cost.

Alys kicked out at him, scrambling to get his weight off her legs. "I've had no one to practice with," she reminded him, finally twisting them both over so she could press the blunt edge of her blade against his neck. He allowed her to do so with no effort to stop the action, taking away her sense of triumph for besting him. She observed him for a moment, the blade flashing in the midday sun as his eyes glinted with mockery and amusement. "You're a bastard sometimes," she seethed, hitting him squarely on the chest with the palm of her hand as she stumbled to her feet and shook out her dress.

"Come on, admit it," he responded smoothly, staring up at her from the forest floor. "You like a bit of rough and tumble every now and then."

Laughter burbled out of Alys's mouth before she could moderate it. "You're going to have to try harder than that if you want to take me," she informed him, inhaling deeply as his eyes reflected a sense of challenge.

"Maybe later," he told her, jumping to his feet and stepping into the clearing. The moment his body bypassed the line of trees, he switched into dragon form and curled on the ground, watching her.

Alys shook her head as she headed over to the large tree in the center of the clearing and grabbed waterproofed leather bag from beneath the roots and hauled it out. She opened the flap, revealing her archery set and an old sword she had obtained from one of the outlaws who had tried to sack her home more than a year before. She tried to practice the art of both weapons as much as she could on her own, but Selendrile certainly was right: she was rusty. She needed a master to tutor her in new skills and to help keep the old ones sharp, and she knew that he wouldn't be able to fulfill that role, even if he did tend to pick up new abilities rather quickly.

For one thing, he couldn't even stay in human form for very long during the daylight. He wasn't fooling her with his sudden transformation back into a dragon. Selendrile usually didn't pass up the opportunity to attempt to outwit her unless he had to. She couldn't very well learn half the things she needed to in the dead of the night, with absolutely no light around to show her the subtle nuances. It just wasn't happening.

Also, Lady Alys had an image to protect.

With a quick look at Selendrile, she picked her archery set and stood so that her arrows wouldn't hit her companion. He hadn't left her enough room to practice her footwork with a sword. "I was reviewing the staff and their duties today," she told him, nocking an arrow. "The knot on the branch, four trees in," she said, not sure why she was verbalizing what she was aiming for. When her arrow nicked the bottom of it with a health snick before continuing flight, and a shot of pride flashed through her at her aim – even if it hadn't been one hundred percent perfect – she knew why it was she told him. She was showing off, and wanted to impress him.

"That weird colored bit of bark on the birch," she said next, observing the angles of her target and moving slightly to the left in order to compensate for the tree in her way. "I think the servants will probably be doing their work today, but as I was going over the duties of the gameskeeper, he told me that the castle has a sort of military reserves to defend it. Apparently the men in the town are supposed to be able to defend us if we're attacked." Alys shot her arrow. "And they haven't been trained in years. I was wondering if you thought it would be a good idea to have someone instruct them this summer, maybe after planting season is done and the crops are well on their way."

Selendrile cocked his head to the side, observing her with those strange eyes of his.

"What?" she asked defensively, letting her bow hit the ground.

Selendrile morphed back into a human, his eyes judgmental but his moth quirked into a smirk. "Do you plan to do it yourself?"

"No," Alys told him, taken back. "Of course not. Do you think they'd allow me to, anyway, especially after all the trouble I've gone through to be a delicate and helpless lady."

"If we teach the men to defend the castle, it's just advertising that the defenses are weak. It also says that we're preparing for someone to attack. Do we really want to give people ideas?" Selendrile shook his head. "Most girls think about marriage and babies at your age, but not you. No, you think about tactical maneuvers and warfare."

Alys narrowed her eyes at him. "I've been thinking enough about love these past few days! I'm sick of it. Do you really think that I'm going to stand idly by as _witches _attack my town and the girls in it? Do you think I like feeling helpless?"

"Do _you_ think a few badly trained men with swords will protect you from magic?" He criticized. Alys glared at him and Selendrile sighed, conceding. "If it will make you feel like you're doing something productive, you may have your army."

"Thank you," she said, finally looking through the trees to see that her arrow had pierced through the discolored piece of bark.

©RelenaFanel.April11.2008

Please review. Also, does Alys make a better lady, warrior, or somewhere in between?


	8. Chapter 8

**Tempting the Dragon**

_Chapter 8_

* * *

It soon became more than apparent to Alys that no matter how clever she thought she was with her cunning plan on how to deal with the staff, that it would have been better if she had left them to adjust to her leadership instead of turning them against each other. She was barely able to walk out of her bedroom without at least three of the staff falling over each other to either do things for her or to complain about one of their coworkers. Alys bore it with barely restrained impatience, snapping at approximately one servant per hour. Selendrile merely observed the proceedings with a smirk on his face and occasionally a knowing smile as she responded to someone by digging her fingernails into her palm, trying not to use the fist she was making to knock out some teeth.

"Lady Alys?" One of the servants called out to her as she tried to move from the kitchen to the dining hall. Alys recognized the voice easily, as it was quickly becoming one of the most annoying and persistent ones in her life. "I thought you should know that Catherine just spent five minutes sitting on the stairs instead of cleaning."

This irritated Alys more than usual, probably because she had a soft spot for Catherine, the other girl being the catalyst to Alys ultimately being able to fire Wolsey. "Well," Alys said a little sharply. "At least she doesn't disrupt her work every five minutes in order to come snitch to me, Mary. I have to tell you, the more you tittle-tattle to me, the less I see you as a reliable and responsible employee. The only person you're sabotaging is yourself."

Then, because Alys liked to consider herself as fair, she went to find Catherine to see if anything was wrong. From what she had observed, Catherine was one of the good ones: a hard worker who was doing so because it was her job and not because she was under evaluation. Alys personally thought that Catherine deserved any five minute breaks the other girl happened to take, but she didn't want to be one of those people who played favourites unfairly.

"Is something wrong?" Alys asked softly, climbing the back stairway to find Catherine still sitting in the same position Mary reported her in. Catherine raised a finger to her lips and gestured towards the wall with a movement of her head. Alys could hear the muted echo of voices through the wall, and she frowned in concentration, sure that she had just heard her own name mentioned.

"Lady Alys" murmuring she couldn't understand "keep trying" followed by something that sounded like 'dead' or 'bread' and finally "Wolsey"

Carefully, Alys lowered herself onto the steps and placed her head against the wall. There was the hushed murmur of voices, but they were moving farther away and she couldn't hear anything being said. Finally, when there was silence on the other side of the wall, she lifted her head and looked at Catherine. "Were they talking about me?"

"Yes," Catherine said, getting to her feet and brushing off her apron. She wouldn't meet Alys's eyes, keeping her own demurely lowered and hands clasped contritely in front of her.

Alys frowned. "What were they saying?"

"I'm sorry," Catherine said softly. "I didn't hear much more than you did. By the time I realized that the voices were saying something against you and started to listen, they were already finalizing the plans. All I know is that Wolsey is arranging for you and his lordship to be usurped and I think they plan to do something to you first."

Alys felt a shiver of foreboding, but it was more than that – it was also a rush of excitement at the promise of danger. She was addicted to the feeling of power that came from life-threatening peril, and there was something both comforting and exhilarating about the idea of being attacked by something she could fend off. The idea of witches left her feeling helpless, but the promise of someone she could meet head-on made her want to grin in anticipation. "Do you know when, or how?" Alys asked, trying her best to sound concerned. In her mind, she was already sharpening the knife she kept strapped to her side at all times.

"No," Catherine said contritely, head still bowed and unable to look at Alys.

Warning bells went off in Alys's head as she noticed the way Catherine was acting. Usually, she had noticed a bluntness in the other girl, a sense of confidence that allowed her to talk to her superiors without mumbling or talking to her feet. So when Catherine started to do just that, Alys knew something was off. "What is it?" Alys asked, grabbing Catherine's arm sharply. Had Wolsey snuck back into the castle to continue what she had stopped him from doing nights before? If he could organize a party of servants to act out against her and Selendrile, then he could certainly find someone to hide him in one of the many unused rooms. "Did Wolsey hurt you?"

"No!" Catherine responded with surprise. "I just wasn't paying much attention. I wasn't working like I was supposed to be."

Then, to Alys's surprise, she blushed. Alys's eyebrows winged up, but before she could ask any enquiring questions, Catherine stammered on.

"I was… I just… I was woolgathering, your ladyship."

If Alys had been surprised by Catherine's behavior, it was nothing compared to the shock and concern she felt now. She could sense what was wrong in the pit of her stomach and it concerned her that she hadn't noticed it before in the slight flush of Catherine's cheeks, and the small secret smile playing along the other girl's lips. Alys hadn't noticed the flower bud tucked into the servant's hair to make her appearance softer, or the glazed look in her eyes.

Selendrile had been so sure that Alys was the next victim, and Alys had been convinced he was right, but in front of her was evidence that they both had been wrong. The witches weren't coming after Alys next – they had already picked Catherine as their next target.

"Is he real?" Alys asked, her hand tightening around Catherine's arm. "Or did he appear to you in a dream?"

Catherine looked startled, like a young fawn approached by a mountain lion. "He's…" she stuttered. "Does it matter? We're in love! He treats me like a queen and he said when we're married that he'll move me away from this place and set me up in a real house." Catherine wrenched her arm away, scurrying down the stairs at a rapid speed.

Alys stared after her for a moment, a concerned and pitying look on her face. She wondered if the reason it was so easy for the young women to fall in love with these dream men was because they promised riches and wealth that was beyond anything the girls could ever hope for. Alys herself had dreamed big when she was a young girl, and even in her most extravagant daydreams, she had never even thought she'd fall in love with a dragon: sure, she'd imagined herself swept off her feet by a prince and made into a princess, but she'd given up such foolish ideas far before Selendrile had swept her off a witch's pyre and into a far different life than what she was used to. If the spell which was casted over these girls targeted those childhood fantasies they had before the realities of their birth set it, then Alys could really see how they were so consumed with need for their dream man.

She could see how they were so taken in by love.

Sighing, Alys watched Catherine stomp out of sight. In that moment, she felt far older than her seventeen years. She turned and continued up the back flight of stairs, emerging in the back servant quarters. She moved quickly through the rooms, not comfortable with the idea of trespassing in the cramped, personal quarters where some of the hired help lived. She finally found the door leading into the hallway of the main house, and after quickly ascending a small flight of stairs, she found herself in familiar territory.

All the while, the thing going through her mind was a question: why Catherine and not her? Alys knew she had been having strange dreams recently, including that one she had of Selendrile declaring his love for her. Could it be merely a coincidence? Was she dreaming these things because the idea of dreaming about love was on her mind?

That had to be it.

Alys ignored her own bedroom, moving rapidly down the hallway until she found the door to Selendrile's suite. She burst through his door without knocking, knowing that he was hidden in his back room for the day.

"Selendrile!" Alys called out as she rounded his bed and furnishings. She knocked softly on the door to let him know where she was, though she was certain that his senses had picked up on her approach long before she announced herself. She was gratified to hear his tail rap once back to her, letting her know he was listening.

She knew better than to approach him when he was caged and edgy like a captured animal. Especially now, so soon after he had almost eaten her.

"It isn't me!" she called out to him through the wall. "I'm not the one having dreams of love. It's one of the maids. She didn't even try to deny it when I found her daydreaming in the hallway."

The dragon snorted. Alys wished she could see his face, even in dragon form, so she could tell what he meant. She thought that particular snort sounded like one of derision, but it could just as easily be one encouraging her to finish the story. Just as she was thinking this, the door opened and Selendrile emerged, looking slightly sleepy. His hair was tussled, and he had hiked a sheet around his hips for modesty's sake – hers, not his own, since he didn't understand the human preoccupation with covering their nudity.

"We have to do something about it," Alys continued. "Maybe we should keep her here overnight or something. I doubt the witches would really be able to steal someone right out from under your nose. If they're smart enough to keep from being stopped after god-knows-how-long, then they're certainly not going to mess with you. They aren't stupid, unlike Wolsey, who apparently has come up with a plan to get rid of both of us. They probably realize that you're clearly a superior –" Oh God, Alys realized, she was babbling. She couldn't bring herself to stop, even after he looked sharply at her after she blurted out the thing about Wolsey.

He had never unnerved her with his presence so much before. She had never followed his every movement with her eyes, not in fear but with calculation, wondering what he would do if she grabbed the sheet around his hips and –

"Alys," Selendrile snapped with impatience, breaking her out of whatever trance she was in. "Wolsey has a plan?"

"I don't know much about it," she told him with a sigh, sitting on his bed and not meeting his eyes. "Catherine, the servant I was telling you about, well she overheard someone talking about this plan of Wolsey's to usurp us, or run us off, or kill us or something. She wasn't paying much attention because she was too busy daydreaming about some white knight whisking her away. By the time I got there, all I was able to overhear was that I might possibly be the first target."

Selendrile sighed too, a human habit he had clearly picked up from her, and ran his hand through his long golden hair. "Human superstition says these things come in threes." He gave her a rueful smile. "With you it's more like sevens."

"I do seem to have months of bad luck," Alys mused. "Followed by uneventful periods that make me think maybe my life is looking up." Alys rested her elbows on her knees, clasping her hands together under her chin in order to support her head with. "I really was hoping the witches were after me, though. I think I – no, we – could have dealt with it better than Catherine can."

"You're right," Selendrile told her, flopping backwards so that he was lying across his bed. "We have to watch over her the best we can. I doubt we can stop the spell, but maybe we'll be able to catch the witches in the act. If they actually physically manifest to do the kidnapping and it isn't just part of the spell for the girls to reach a certain point and then disappear."

"The eye witness says she saw the witches steal her sister in person."

Selendrile shrugged one of his shoulders carelessly. "So what? Young girls are fanciful, and the human mind has ways of dealing with grief and things it doesn't understand. Maybe she didn't see what she thought she saw."

"Selendrile," Alys frowned in concern. "We based the idea that we're dealing with witches on the fact that Old Widow Andersen saw them when they took her sister. Are you saying we were wrong?"

"I'm saying it's a possibility. I'm saying that I'm still no closer to figuring out what's going on than I was a few days ago. And now we also have to deal with Wolsey trying to get revenge on us for dismissing him."

"We could just kill him," Alys joked, absently stroking the bone hilt to her dagger so that Selendrile gave her a look she couldn't fathom, and turned his gaze away from her.

"That would solve a lot of problems," Selendrile admitted. "Do you want to do it, or shall I?"

"I wasn't serious," Alys protested, her head snapping to look at him. She had been avoiding glancing in his direction since they started this conversation, but especially since he flopped to the bed beside her, his golden skin shining in the daylight with an unnatural sparkle. She itched to touch his skin, run her hand along the strong curve of his shoulder or down his back. She didn't know what was wrong with her.

"You were serious," he told her, his fingers stroking along the bare skin on the inside of her wrist. "You want to face him with your knife in your hand and hear the last groan of life as you slice him from gut to sternum."

Alys gasped, pulling her arm away from him in a sharp jerk. "I do not," she denied loudly, grabbing her wrist where he had been touching her and pressing against the rapid pulse there. She only had to look at the taunting smile on his face to realize that her safest option was to flee. She could feel his gaze following her from the room, mocking her for her fear.

She didn't see Selendrile again that day. The servants kept her busy with their petty games, and she managed to slip quietly away for a few hours to practice her swordplay. The feel of the hilt in her hand and the power of her mock thrusts left a bad taste in her mouth after his words. She would not kill a man in cold blood, no matter how evil he seemed.

But a little voice in her head pointed out how easy it would be for her. That frightened her more than anything. She wasn't a blood thirsty killer like Selendrile, even if she had taken her share of lives. She didn't want to be.

She emerged from the forest without completing all the training exercises she usually went through. She felt disgusted with herself for allowing Selendrile to get to her, but even more disgusted with him for thinking she could just run Wolsey through without another thought. Didn't he know her at all?

The day was already darkening by the time she arrived to the side entrance of the castle she used so often. She could hear the sounds of dishes clanking from the dining hall, and it surprised her slightly to think that Selendrile had started a meal without her. He never ate, not if he could help it, and they had developed suppers for the sole purpose of allowing a place for the servants to see them interacting together.

Alys paused outside the door to the dining room, both shocked and slightly curious to hear the sound of Selendrile's voice talking to someone. She pressed her ear against the door, listening in without divulging her presence. The best she could tell was that the other voice was male, and for a moment she worried that Selendrile had invited Wolsey for dinner – literally. Though he had promised her ages ago not to eat humans, Selendrile would probably not hesitate to do so with his former butler. The dragon had been furious to discover that his employee was taking advantage of the women of the household, and Alys knew that Selendrile believed that no death was too painful for a rapist.

Through the door, Alys could hear Selendrile say: "Thank you for responding so quickly to my inquiry. It was recently pointed out to me that my household is supposed to have a military reserve of sorts. You've come highly recommended to me. My sources say that you served in the last war and have experience training laymen to be warriors. We have a limited estate here and a modest household. There are no knights or fighters amongst my men, and we find ourselves in a precarious position."

"What are you offering?" A second man asked.

"A small cottage in town and three meals a day for you and your family for the next year. In return, you'll train my men during the waiting seasons – this summer, definitely, and perhaps during the winter months. In addition, I'll pay you five silver per month and a bonus at the end for each man you successfully train."

Alys was slightly shocked to listen to Selendrile's business and negotiation skills. Had it been that long ago when he had shown her a handful of coins and allowed her to deal with the cost of things? To him back then, money had no value except for the fact it was shiny, and now he had business acumen that sounded far better than her own good judgment. It was a revelation that made her feel slightly useless. She had always told herself that she might need him for protection – well, maybe not so much anymore – and companionship, but he needed her experience in the real world in order to deal with life as a human.

Apparently he didn't.

But, Alys realized as she backed away from the door, she didn't really need him all that much either. It came as a shock to her to realize that the only reason the two of them were still together was because without each other they would be alone. She was so used to Selendrile in her life now, that she didn't know what she would do without him.

Alys shook off the horror she felt at the idea of leaving him behind and instead focused on the fact he was hiring a skilled warrior as she had suggested. She wondered if he really thought they needed protection or if he was just giving her what she wanted. She knew Selendrile didn't really have a connection to the land, and just as soon as he found whatever it was he was looking for in the area – the artifact he believed to be hidden within the castle walls – he would leave here as quickly as it took him to change into a dragon and take flight.

The two of them had discussed it time and time again. It was the plan. If he hated this place so much, then why was he investing part of his horde on making sure the people were protected against the danger the two of them invariably drew towards them? Why was he ensuring the safety of the people after the two of them left?

Alys didn't think Selendrile had much of a moral compass or sense of obligation. He wasn't someone who could be relied on to do the right, good thing. Selendrile took care of himself, and he took care of her when it was necessary.

Which was why Alys went to bed confused that night, her stomach growling in hunger from the meal she skipped. It wasn't the same sensation as what she had experienced when her father was ill and there wasn't enough food to nourish both of them so she had lived in a state of always being hungry, so much so she had stopped noticing it. It was due to Selendrile that she had a warm bed to sleep in, even during the coldest nights, and enough food to feed her entire village.

She fell asleep wondering why she didn't feel more smug over what he was doing for her. She should feel proud and conceited over the fact he had gotten in a professional warrior due to her suggestions, but instead she felt a sense of dread as though this was just one more step leading to her downfall. She entered a dreamscape not worried about what possible things awaited her. She was convinced that it was now Catherine who was being targeted, and that her own dreams were merely a coincidence.

x.x.x

"Selendrile!" Alys called out as she rounded his bed and furnishings. She knocked softly on the door to let him know where she was, not surprised when he echoed back with a thump of his tail.

"I'm not the one the witches have targeted," she called through the door, knowing he would be interested in this piece of information.

In response, the door opened and Selendrile emerged, looking slightly sleepy. His hair was tussled, and he had hiked a sheet around his hips for modesty's sake. Alys's eyes were drawn to his chest, the skin rich like old gold and as smooth as silk. Her eyes shifted lower, and she watched his hand hike the sheet up as he moved around her. Her hands itched to touch him, perceptively shaking with the need so that she had to make fists, and she wondered what he would do if she grabbed the sheet around his hips and bared his beautiful body to her eyes. More and more often he had been emerging from dragon form with an erection, and she wanted to know what it felt like in her hand.

She wanted to know if it was for her.

And why not? This was a dream, right?

"Alys?" Selendrile asked questioningly as she took a step towards him. Her hand touched his chest as she braced herself against his body, reaching up on tiptoe for a kiss. Alys pressed her mouth against his urgently, her lips soft and pliant at first, her bottom lip caressing his with a subtle movement. He stayed deathly still for a moment, just allowing her to kiss him. Then he placed his hand on her back, stroking between her shoulder blades as he pulled her closer.

Alys gently bit down on his bottom lip, her hand slipping beneath his sheet and skimming over his heating flesh. The back of her knuckles brushes against what she was searching for and he twitched in surprise.

"Alys," Selendrile repeated in a gasp as he grabbed her hand and lifted it away. He pulled his mouth away from hers and took a step back, his gaze focused on her shoulder. "We're not going to do this."

Alys gave him a secretive smile, not putting up with his attempt to control the situation. Without allowing intent to flicker in her eyes, she wrapped her leg behind his knees and pulled his feet out from under him. Selendrile tumbled backwards onto the bed, and he looked up at her with a heated spark in his amethyst eyes – they gleamed with a combination of possession and passion. Alys gasped, pausing for a moment to stare at him lounging across the bed, the sheet barely covering his hips and leaving nothing to the imagination.

He gave her a predatory look, though he was the one who was supposed to be at a disadvantage, and she felt all her control slip away and her pulse thrum in anticipation.

Selendrile stood, completely naked, and grabbed her, pulling her back onto the bed with him so that she landed on his chest. She could feel him beneath her, separated by a layer of clothing. Alys paused for a second, trying to catch her breath, and then she pushed herself up so that she was leaning over him, her knees planted on either side of his thighs.

Selendrile moved to kiss her, but Alys was faster. Her fingers tangled in his long, silky hair as she jerked his head backwards, bowing his body beneath hers. He hissed as she kissed him, using her tongue to make him open his mouth for her.

She was the one in charge.

Alys explored his mouth leisurely, tasting him and feeling his teeth against her tongue. The entire time, she was aware that this wasn't real and that she could do anything she wanted to, with no consequences. And what she really wanted to do was touch him – explore his body until he gasped her name and begged her for more.

Alys moved her mouth down his jaw, her lips stopping over the pulse in his neck. She gently scraped her teeth over the flesh there, her hand moving down his chest, over his stomach. She tasted him, amazed to find the beat of his heart thrumming against her tongue. Her fingers tightened around his arousal just as he flipped her over and landed on top of her, so that she was no longer dominant.

Selendrile leaned over and kissed the side of her neck, whispering in her ear. "The first time I enter you, it will be in real life where you can feel it properly."

Alys awoke with a gasp, startled to find herself alone in the room. She could still feel the faint echoes of his skin against her palm, and her hand tingled with the memory of his heat. She bit back a groan of frustration, rolling over and curling into a ball to stop herself from leaving her room in search of him. Her skin was dewy with sweat and she was frustrated beyond belief.

She was also confused. Had that just been a normal dream, or had it been something else?

©RelenaFanel.May17.2008

This fic is a year old. Happy Birthday, Tempting the Dragon! I'm sorry I don't update you as often as I should.


	9. Chapter 9

_Recap: Alys has been having romantic and sexy dreams about Selendrile, something that makes her worry that she might be the next target of a coven of witches who use the dreams of young girls to kidnap them for nefarious purposes. _

_Selendrile has also just brought in a swordmaster to teach the men and boys of the village how to fight._

_

* * *

  
_

**Chapter 9**

She needed back into the dream. Now. Her skin was heated in something between a flush of excitement and an embarrassed blush. Her heart thrummed in her ears, and she felt as though she had been ripped through a narrow, dark tunnel and out the other side was a world where nothing made sense.

Where was Risa to talk her through this with riddles? Those were far more comforting than these dreams with Selendrile that seemed to be escalating into something she couldn't even understand.

_What WAS that?_ She wondered, shivering at the memory of Selendrile's hands closing around her arms. It was nothing new, but the novelty of allowing herself to feel for him remained even after being awake. They just seemed to be getting more and more detailed, showing her exactly what she wanted, what she yearned for, but never allowed herself to think of while awake. Every time she looked at him she wondered if they could transition their relationship from a few kisses into something more powerful, and now in dreams he was making promises to her that the two of them could be more.

He was promising her everything and it was confusing.

It was completely erotic.

But was it real in any way? In the dream, and if she was honest in the few moments after waking, she had thought he was really in her subconscious through some dragon magic, and had really said those things. Truthfully, it was probably just her subconscious playing with her feelings of unrequited love.

Right?

Alys struggled to put the thought into the back of her head, telling herself it wasn't fair to either of them to hope for something he had made clear couldn't happen – even if a few situations between the two of them had completely showed her the contradiction between what he did and what he said. No matter how often he made overtures towards her that made him seem interested, her mind always went back to the moment he broke her heart and told her a dragon and a human could never be together. She rationalized every kiss away with that rationale, even when it became obvious that it might not have been the truth.

Selendrile wanted her just as much as she wanted him, she was sure of it.

She just wasn't ready to believe it.

Sighing, she slipped out of bed, the floor cold beneath her feet. The castle was silent as her soft footsteps fell across the corridor. She didn't know why she was out of bed, as the smart thing to do would be to stay in the warm cocoon of her blankets and hope for sleep. Instead, she pushed open the heavy wooden doors to the upper battlement, the ledge making a flat surface so she could look over the town. Besides in her dreams, she hadn't been out here in a while and she enjoyed the solitude with the stars as silent and distant company.

Sometimes, she would survey the view with a warrior's eye, figuring out the best places to defend against ambushes. Tonight, she made a mental note to make sure the new instructor was shown this area during daylight hours. Other times, she would observe the town from the viewpoint of the poor peasant girl and tinsmith's daughter she was before Selendrile. From here she could see the roofs which needed hatching, or whether a section of fencing had let go.

Tonight, she looked at the view like a woman might, a little regretful of the things that had gone wrong in the past few weeks as her eyes scanned across the Smith home, but hopeful for the future as she looked upon the fertile lands. Mostly, she just enjoyed the beauty of the view.

Somehow, Alys managed to drift back to sleep despite these thoughts circling through her mind. When she woke up, the sun had been in the sky for a few hours and she was lying sprawled across the roof of the castle, her body shaded by one of the turrets. The new instructor was already at work with the town's men, fathers and sons alike, and she hadn't realized how much she expected him to be Jorge, her old mentor, until she realized it wasn't.

She wanted to stay and watch, but she could see that the class was still going over the very basics, things she already knew or would be able to pick up within moments of seeing more advanced stances. She wanted more than anything to be able to don her boy's clothes and go down to blend with the crowd, but she knew the people in this town all knew each other intimately, and a strange face would be obvious. She had her own responsibilities anyway.

The moment she stepped back inside the castle one of the servants drew her attention away from frivolous things, showing her a broken candlestick whose matching piece was in pristine condition. Alys yearned to work with the metal herself, knowing she could repair the filigree seamlessly, but instead she sent it off to the local metal worker with the hopes he had a good eye for detail. The rest of her day was full of similar choices and more evidence that her life had irrevocably changed and her responsibilities had fallen away from taking care of herself and her father, or herself and Selendrile, and now became taking care of the estate.

Weeks later, the men were still working on basic training, taking days to learn maneuvers Alys had learned in hours with Conrad and Jorge. She only dreamt sporadically of Selendrile, each one leaving her heart pounding rapidly, her mouth dry, and a sense of urgency in the air around her.

Selendrile didn't seem to notice the change in her behavior, even when she started to avoid seeking him out just so he wouldn't hear the obvious quickening of her heart when he was close.

"The problem is that the men can't see how effective the moves I'm teaching them are," Eric the swordmaster told Selendrile one evening at the supper table. Alys paused with her eating utensil halfway to her mouth, keenly listening to the conversation despite not technically being included in it. Eric believed that anything he had to talk about was limited to the menfolk, and that the women should make conversation with themselves. Eric's wife Elisabeth wasn't a great conversationalist, which suited Alys fine as she didn't want to talk about babies anyway.

Selendrile's pointed his knife at Eric casually, as a human might when making a point. Alys, as she usually considered when she noticed things like that, wondered if he was doing it on purpose or just didn't notice anymore. "What did you have in mind?"

"A demonstration!" Eric exclaimed, throwing his arms out wide, a little sauced off the wine and mead that went along with dinner. He never seemed to notice Selendrile barely touched either of his, and Alys only ever had one glass of wine. "A big one. Like a challenge between knights with swords and hand-to-hand combat and real stakes."

"Do you mean a fight to the death?" Alys asked, her fingers tightening imperceptivity around her knife as she shot Selendrile a meaningful look before turning her attention back to Eric. "That sounds dangerous. An unnecessary danger for the purpose of exhibiting fighting moves. Surely some kind of choreographed demonstration would suit your purposes-"

"No!" Eric interrupted, slamming his fist down on the table so that all the dishware rattled against the flat surface. Alys's grip tightened even further around her knife in anger as Selendrile returned her look with one of warning. He then turned his attention towards their swordmaster, a disapproving frown on his face. Eric continued without heeding the cautionary look of his lord. "It has to be a real fight or else the men will never witness exactly what they are supposed to learn. They'll never understand the true danger of what I'm teaching them if they don't see it first hand and that will put them at a major disadvantage when they go to fight themselves. I can teach them defense and offensive moves but if they don't understand that a real fight is spontaneous and dirty and a warrior does everything necessary just to win then I'm not teaching them anything at all."

Finally, Eric wound down his rant and finally noticed the disapproval on Selendrile's face and the fearful look on his wife's. He didn't look to Alys to see her silent fury, and for once Alys was glad to be ignored. She thought Eric misogynistic, but she also thought him right.

"You will never interrupt or disrespect the Lady Alys again, do you understand? She is my sister and your mistress. You have no status in this household except as a servant, so you would do right to remember your place." Selendrile's face did not change out of the disapproving glare and his tone remained firm, even as he moved from berating Eric to agreeing with him. "I understand the truth to your argument, but there is one problem. We have no trained warriors to battle with you. If we did, there wouldn't have been a need to bring in an expert swordmaster."

"My lord, if I may? You're a knight. Fight me. Just for show of course."

Alys looked into her lap. _Let me do it,_ she tried to communicate to Selendrile through her mind. _ I will pummel Eric to the ground in your name._ She smiled at the thought.

Selendrile's eyes shifted towards her for a fraction of a second as she watched him through her eyelashes, not wanting her palpable excitement evident to the rest of the room. For a moment she wondered if he heard her plea and then dismissed the idea as ludicrous. If he could read her mind, there were a lot of other things he would have reacted to over the time they had been together.

"I don't believe that's a good idea," Selendrile quietly claimed.

"We could have a tournament!" Alys blurted out the moment the thought entered her head. "You would preside over it and all the minor lords and interested warriors in the area could attend for and compete for the title of being your steward, or head of guard, or—"

"A tournament would be perfect!" Eric interrupted and then immediately turned red and stammered his apologies to Alys.

She hadn't even noticed the slight so soon after Selendrile had warned Eric to respect her, she was too excited at the prospect of the tournament. This wouldn't just be her informally battling Eric in front of the townsmen, but she'd be able to really test her prowess for the first time since the previous winter. Then she'd know for sure whether she really was skilled at fighting and if all her practice was keeping her in shape. Winning the tournament would be a major coup.

Alys turned to stare at Selendrile, wondering if he'd be able to read her mind this time. She couldn't think of anything better than a tournament to take her mind off the stress of waiting for the witches to reappear and the monotony of her day-to-day life as mistress of the household.

"I'll consider it," Selendrile promised, standing from the table with his meal only picked at. Both Eric and his wife stood to show their respects. The first time this had happened, Selendrile hadn't known what to do but today he dismissed their deference with a wave of his hand and a careless "carry on" as he left the table.

Alys excused herself from the table the minute she finished eating, leaving their guests to decide whether it was acceptable etiquette to continue eating with neither she nor Selendrile present. He was missing by the time she reached his rooms, and Alys turned on her heel and hurried outside, impatient to speak to him.

She snuck through the side door and down the hill as quickly and silently as she could. One thing she had never been very good at was tracking, but she had picked a few things up from Conrad and later Sir Guy. It took her longer than it should have to find the pile of clothes Selendrile left at the edge of the forest, and she knew that if she pressed ahead it would be less skill and more blind luck if she actually managed to find him. More likely, he would find her.

The when depended completely on whether he wanted to talk to her or not. If he did, he would appear shortly, but if he didn't then she wouldn't see him until it was time for him to leave the forest and return to the castle. He'd never leave her in alone in the forest looking for him and she was sure he knew the moment she stepped into the woods that she was there.

Alys paused beside his clothes wondering if she should wait, but the prospect of trying to find him was too strong of a lure. She had always been more curious than cautious, sometimes detrimental to her safety.

The forest was dark, but she could see by the light of the quarter moon. She walked confidently over roots and fallen branches, avoiding a small sink hole between two rocks with ease. Alys didn't notice clouds covering the moon, she was so intent on searching her surroundings for Selendrile.

A warning growl rumbled behind her and Alys swung around quickly, dagger clasped in her hand. A lone wolf was standing atop a small incline, watching her through intelligent eyes. She couldn't see the color, but she could tell by the way it watched her that it was no simple animal.

"I'd like to talk to you," she told him, relaxing her stance slightly. "Once you finish hunting supper, of course."

The wolf growled, eyes following her dagger as she lowered it a fraction.

Suddenly Alys was concerned. Selendrile never cared if she aimed a weapon at him, always thinking it more amusing than threatening. Her grasp tightened and she stared at the wolf. He growled again, teeth barred as he backed up a step and disappeared over the back of the incline.

"Selendrile?" Alys demanded harshly. He growled again, teeth barred as he backed up a step and disappeared over the back of the incline.

"Selendrile?" Alys demanded harshly, though she was now convinced it wasn't him.

"Here," he said from behind her, half the word more of a purr than something vocalized by a human. She turned to see him morph mid-step and fall beside her fully human.

Alys wordlessly handed him her shawl, and he twisted it around his hips without comment about her modesty or even a smile. She wasn't sure if that was because he was accustomed to her or if the situation was so grave teasing her was the last thing on his mind. They both stared at the empty spot where the wolf had just stood.

"Who was that?" she asked, assuming now that he had seen the wolf.

"I have no idea. Probably just a wolf," he shrugged. "You wanted to talk?"

Alys wasn't sure she believed that the animal was merely a wolf, but she understood Selendrile well enough that she knew he wanted her to let go of the subject. He was probably right. Finally she nodded. "About the tournament," she told him.

"I'm not convinced there will be a tournament. It will cost us more than it's worth, our privacy will be compromised, and there is always the possibility someone will recognize us as being interlopers instead of the heirs to this land. Give me one good reason to agree to this madness."

Alys gave him a level look. "It will be fun." She followed this with a grin.

"If that's the best you can do, then my answer is no," he told her, bending to look at the ground beside one of the trees. In one quick movement he lifted a mouse by the tail and presented it to her. "What do you think, supper?"

Alys straightened her shoulders, not allowing herself to become squeamish with the idea of him eating the mouse in front of her raw. If he could watch her eat stew without gagging then she could certainly do this. "Looks a little sparse," she informed him, "but go ahead if you're hungry."

"I am," he purred, focus resting on the mouse for a moment before turning to her, the exact same expression still on his face. "What do you think Alys? There's only one other thing around here edible to me, and you did interrupt my hunt with your need to talk. Should I have you for supper? It would be a lot more satisfying."

He licked his lips and Alys closed her eyes in response, her body reacting to him so sharply that she had to subtly pinch her inner arm to make sure she wasn't dreaming. He didn't mean it like that, she told herself. As her eyes were closed she heard the crunch of mouse bones and she kept her gaze averted until she couldn't hear him eating anymore.

When Alys opened her eyes his lips were smeared with blood and he was looking rather pleased with himself. She swallowed heavily, thankful for the reminder that he wasn't the clever human with the handsome looks that she sometimes mistook him for.

They stared at each other levelly for a moment until Alys picked up the conversation from before he decided to provoke her. "If you won't accept fun as an argument, then consider how wonderful an opportunity it will be."

"How so?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow as he licked his fingers clean.

Alys only had the vaguest idea, and it was becoming fuzzier by the moment. "Well, the witches will think that we're distracted by the visitors and the games, but really we'll be ready and waiting for them. It's the perfect opportunity for a trap."

Selendrile nodded once. "You may have a point."

"You know I do," she argued. "Plus with an entrance fee and our lesser hall turned into a tavern with food and drink, we could possibly generate more revenue than we lose with the prize." Alys knew how Selendrile felt about his treasure horde, and thought appealing to his capitalistic side would help her win the argument. Now that he could see the value of his treasure through prolonged exposure to the human world he was even less likely to part with it.

Selendrile smirked, seeing right through her. "I'll think about it," he promised.

Alys grinned, trying to hide her self-satisfied response by nodding and turning to look at the moon. "I should get back to the castle. Just promise me you actually will think about it, yeah? I'll let you get back to hunting."

Selendrile grabbed her wrist, turning her sharply around to face him. "You can't hide anything from me, Alys," he informed her. "Don't assume I don't understand your selfishness in wanting a tournament. You won't be participating."

"But Sele-"

"No. You will NOT be entering any of the competitions. If I decide to host this, you will be by my side throughout the entire thing."

Alys glared up at him. "You don't understand," she said stubbornly.

"I do understand," he responded quietly, his voice allowing for no argument. "But you will not risk your life for anything as foolish as a game. There is no honour to be won by pretending to be a man in order to prove your own skills and there's too much risk you will be found out. Right now you're my pocket ace."

Alys stared up at him, confused.

"I like people underestimating you, Alys. You won't do anything to jeopardize that."

She looked at him and finally nodded, conceding though it was the last thing she wanted to do. "Same goes," she told him crisply. "You will not do anything to put yourself in danger or allow anyone to find us out."

Selendrile grinned. "Deal," he told her, letting go of her wrist and taking a step back. All of a sudden, he was no longer standing there and in his place was a mountain lion.

Alys smirked. "Good kitty," she said, reaching out to pet him. Selendrile growl at her, swiping with one of his big paws but missing her hand altogether. She laughed at him and scratched behind his ear, surprised at how soft his fur was. He purred beneath her fingers, neck vibrating. "Watch out for human hunters," she told him. "You have a rug that looks like your cousin right now."

He nuzzled slightly against her palm and turned, running into the dark forest. She stared after him for a moment before turning and making her way back to the castle.

The next evening Selendrile announced the tournament.

* * *

RelenaFanel Dec20.2009

My thanks go out to everyone who waited (im)patiently for this chapter and who still enjoy this story enough to continue reading it despite the fact I haven't updated. I cherish readers like you more than you can know.


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